Rebecca Felan: Journey of a Muggleborn Slytherin
by Edgar-A.-Poe
Summary: Travel through the years at Hogwarts and beyond with Rebecca Felan, a muggleborn Slytherin. She befriends Harry Potter and the Gryffindors, becomes a spy, and has many other adventures. Rated M for later chapters. Eventually Rebecca/Severus.
1. First Year

**Author's Note:** This story is what I hope to be my "canon" for my character made for the Harry Potter world, Rebecca Felan. The first few chapters will be up rather quickly as I've been working on this for a long time, but the latter chapters will take more time as I'm still working on them/want to make them as perfect as possible. So don't panic.

I intend to make no money from this, nor do I want to, really. This is mostly for my own amusement. Anything you see in this chapter that looks familiar was written by J.K. Rowling in _Harry Potter and the Socerer's Stone_. This is one of the few chapters that will have anything from the books in them besides very important scenes, because I wanted to make this story my own this time around and what I really want to have happened had Rebecca actually been there during this time period. I hope all of you enjoy.

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**Chapter One: First Year**

_The Visit, March 1991_

It had begun early this morning, when she had first gotten up. Rebecca Felan, recently turned eleven-year-old, had gotten out of bed this morning and looked out her window to see an owl sitting on her sill. Attached to his leg had been a letter, one addressed to her. She had read it, taking in what it meant, and showed it to her mother. She'd been hoping for some sort of recognition, for some sort of happiness pointed in her general direction, but her mother had merely gone very quiet and called her father home from work. Her mother had sent her back up to her room.

Sitting in her room, Rebecca had plenty of time to think. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her chin rested on her hands, which were on top of her knees. Her parents had said they needed to sort out a few things. She'd looked out her window a couple of times, and seen quite a few owls perched outside their home, waiting patiently, letters gripped tightly between their talons or beaks. She knew the letters were for her. Once, her father had gone out to frighten the birds away, but they had merely risen up into the air, then fluttered back down to earth in a different spot in their front yard. Rebecca laughed at his stupidity.

Another hour passed, and Rebecca was staring out her window when she saw an older woman approach the end of her street corner. Growing interested, Rebecca stood and went closer to the window to observe the woman. She seemed to be looking for something, then spotted all of the owls and smiled before coming closer to them. With a wave of her hand, one flew to her and landed on her arm, surrendering the letter to her before flying away. The rest followed. It was one of the most amazing things Rebecca had ever seen anyone do. She saw the woman was dressed in strange attire: long, flowing green robes, and a large, green hat that almost looked like the stereotypical witch hat she'd seen in old movies. The woman had wrinkles on her face, Rebecca could see as she got closer, and she had a kindly look about her, as though she could be a grandmother. The woman stopped in front of Rebecca's house, then went for the front door. Rebecca ran for the door to her room and went down the stairs two at a time to meet her at the front step.

Her father and mother got there before her, much to her dismay. Rebecca stopped on the fourth step from the bottom, and watched as the woman came into view of the opening door. She, who was clearly a witch, Rebecca decided, smiled at her parents.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Felan," she said in an accented, yet very clear voice. "My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, and I'm here to speak with you about your daughter."

"We know what you are, and we don't want any of it," Roger said harshly, about ready to slam the door in Professor McGonagall's face.

She held up her hand. "I want only a word, if you please," McGonagall said calmly. "If you wouldn't mind too much, I would prefer if we spoke indoors."

Roger considered the woman for a long time, then finally stepped aside to allow her entrance.

"Thank you," McGonagall said, stepping inside. She spotted Rebecca almost immediately. "And you must be Rebecca," she said, smiling up at the girl.

Rebecca nodded.

"Well, come here, dear, this concerns you as well," the professor said, motioning for Rebecca to come down the stairs.

Rebecca approached her, unsure, yet excited all at once. She could feel her hands beginning to shake slightly, and her mind was racing with all sorts of questions. McGonagall turned back to her parents.

"Where would be the best place to speak?" she asked the Felans.

"In the kitchen," Emily, Rebecca's mother, said, trying her best to be polite.

McGonagall nodded, then followed husband and wife to the kitchen, Rebecca scurrying along after them, eager to learn what this witch was doing at her home. McGonagall quickly made herself at home, taking the nearest seat, placing her hat on the table beside her. Nicholas, Rebecca's brother, who was already in the room and pouring himself a glass of water, stared at the intruder, nearly spilling his drink on the counter. Fortunately, he caught it just in time.

"What's the meaning of you coming here like this?" Roger asked, wanting her to leave as quickly as possible.

"We've sent a number of letters just today to your daughter, Mr. Felan," McGonagall said. "But, I realized that since you are not of magical blood, you might not have understood the letter completely. So, the Headmaster decided to send me here to talk with you, in person, upon this matter."

"I already answered you at the door, we don't want any part of your world," Roger said angrily.

"That may be the case for _you_, Mr. Felan," said McGonagall, her lips growing into a straight line and her voice becoming very serious, "but it is the decision of your daughter's, not yours, I'm rather happy to say."

She looked to Rebecca, who stood silently in the doorway, listening in on the conversation.

"Did you look at the letter we sent you, Rebecca?" the witch asked.

"Yes."

"Do you understand what it is telling you?"

Rebecca nodded. "That I'm a witch."

"Yes," McGonagall said, nodding back. "Yes, you are." She paused, looking the girl over.

It is as though I'm staring at a younger version of Lily Evans, Minerva thought absently. The girl was her spitting image from her bold, green eyes to her fiery red hair and her pale complexion. Little things, though, her face shape, her height (slightly bigger than most girls her own age), and her nearly stick-thinness, were what set off the differences. The shape of her eyes and her nose she got from her father, the man who might be the reason for the girl's thinness, Minerva thought. Other than her general body type and complexion, Rebecca did not resemble her mother at all. The same went for her father. Both parents were of darker stock, so to speak, with brown eyes, the father having light brown hair and the mother having black hair. The boy, even, her brother it appeared, took after his parents. But not Rebecca. Perhaps it was her magic that was setting off her differentness.

"Would you like to learn about our world?" Minerva asked the girl quietly. "Would you enjoy learning about magic at our school, where there would be hundreds of other students like you?"

Rebecca considered the sudden offer, taken aback at what she was faced with. She could feel the eyes of her parents and brother upon her. Her father glared at her, almost daring her to say yes. Her mother had a look of compassion mixed with fear for the unknown. Her brother was simply shocked; his little sister had never received this much attention over anything, let alone run the risk of disownment.

"What would I do there?" she asked, stepping closer to the witch.

"You would learn how to harness your power, to use it to your advantage," Minerva explained. "You would learn about witches and wizards of the past, and what has happened in the wizarding world, and how we get along with muggles— that's non-magical people."

"Rebecca, I will not have you going to any school like this!" her father said loudly, ripping the girl's attention from the witch back to him.

Emily sat in the corner of the kitchen, staring at her husband in disbelief. All of this had taken her by surprise. She had never thought Rebecca would have been magical, despite the lineage she was irrevocably bred from, at least on her side. Did Roger have magical blood running through his veins, too, and just not know it? she wondered.

"It's a conspiracy against the government and the Queen mother! And I won't have it!" Roger continued, his face turning red in his fury.

"Mr. Felan!" Minerva said, so shocked that she stood. "We have no reason to go against the government of this great country, let alone the Queen. This is a school for those who possess the power of magic, and I will not allow you to stand between this special girl and Hogwarts!"

"_If_ she wants to go!" shouted Roger, his face turning red from anger.

"Yes," said McGonagall, subdued for a moment. She looked back to Rebecca. "Well, child, what is it that you wish to do? Do you want to remain a muggle, or will you go to Hogwarts?"

Silence filled the entire house; it seemed not even the ceiling fan dared to make a sound. Rebecca thought, weighting the situation again in her mind. Going to this school would bring her new experiences as well as get her away from her family, whom she was sure wouldn't miss her very much anyway. Then again, if she did go, it was likely her family would not wish to speak with her, and she would be forced to create a new life elsewhere in England— a daunting aspect of the choice for one so young.

She bit her bottom lip, a habit she had developed that annoyed her parents. In fact, she thought, nearly everything she did annoyed her parents, so how would this be any different? She wasn't particularly close to either of them or her brother, and she had only a few friends at school, none of them as good as they claimed to be. It seemed the only right thing to do was to press the "restart" button for her life, whereas before there had been none. Now that she had the chance to do it, what was she waiting for?

"Hogwarts sounds great," she told McGonagall with a smile.

Her father's face turned a bright red, and he stormed from the room; Rebecca could track his movement with the sound of his thundering footsteps through the house. McGonagall grinned down at her.

"Very good," she said, holding the letter to her. "I'll be back for you on August the thirty-first, to help you gather you supplies."

Rebecca's grin only grew wider as she took the new sealed envelope from McGonagall. "Thank you," she said. "I'll show you the door… professor."

_The Journey to Hogwarts, September 1991_

After Tom the barkeep, who McGonagall had left her entrusted to, had explained how to work the barrier, he left, wishing Rebecca good luck at school. She bit her bottom lip, looking around nervously. She was soon approaching the pillar quickly, and she did one final sweep of her surroundings before taking the plunge and pushing through the barrier.

The noise surrounded her as soon as she realized she was on the other side. Looking up, Rebecca gasped at the train she saw before her. It was scarlet, with black edgings around it, but its color was magnificent. The platform was crowded, as she had suspected, with hooting owls and purring cats slinking their way through people's legs, though some were in cages being held by their owners. She saw a number of other students placing their luggage in compartments of their choice on the train. She followed suit, finding one near the back that was empty, and setting her things down. Rebecca sat quietly, waiting for the train to begin its journey. She began to think about the books she had read the previous night, when she hadn't been able to sleep. McGonagall had helped her turn her muggle money her mother had inexplicably given her into wizarding gold and had then helped her purchase her things, among them her wand and textbook. Her wand she had looked at for a long time, remembering what Ollivander had told her after he had measured her.

"This is made from an old, old alder tree, with the heartstring of an even older dragon serving as its core… That dragon's heartstring you have there was a very powerful species, nearly as power as he was old. He was a Hungarian Horntail, a very large and terrifying creature when you angered it. I sense the same in you: placid when left alone, with a fiery temper ready to spring forth when needed." He had paused, then, considering her for a long, silent moment. Rebecca became uncomfortable with his stare, but felt that he was seeing something in her that he recognized. She finally cleared her throat, and that seemed to bring him from his thoughts. "For a wand such as that, it will cost you no less than eight galleons," he had said, winking. "That's a special price for you, my dear; I expect great things from you."

"Excuse me?" said a young boy's voice, startling Rebecca so she jumped a little.

Rebecca glanced up to see who the voice belonged to. It was a boy who looked to be her age, with dark-colored, messy hair, green eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses, and skinny as a rail. His hands clutched a trolley, on which a cage (with a huge snowy owl sitting patiently) and the boy's trunk were placed carefully.

"Could you help me lift this up?" the boy continued, motioning to his trunk. "There don't seem to be any other compartments."

"Sure," said Rebecca, offering the boy the only small grin she could muster up. She stood and went to the opening of the compartment, holding out her hands. The boy handed her the cage with the owl inside it, and Rebecca took it gingerly, placing the beautiful bird on the floor. She turned back to see the boy trying to lift the trunk by himself.

"Don't— you'll hurt yourself!" she said harshly, jumping from the compartment to the ground smoothly.

She picked up one end, and the boy followed her lead by picking up the other end. They both tried to lift the trunk, but even their combined strengths were not enough. Rebecca grunted, feeling her arm straining against the heaviness of the trunk before she finally gave up, letting go of the handle.

"Want a hand?" a red-haired boy, older than both she and the dark-haired boy, asked kindly, approaching them.

"Yes, please," said the dark-haired boy.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" the redhead cried.

Another red-haired boy came obediently to his brother's call. Rebecca did a double-take. They were twins! She took a step back, going back up into the compartment to get out of the three boys' way. With the twins' help, the dark-haired boy managed to get his trunk into the compartment with his owl, Rebecca, and her own things.

"Thanks," said the dark-haired boy, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

Rebecca's own sharp vision caught the tiny scar on his forehead, but said nothing, sitting quietly in her seat near the corner of the compartment.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at the other boy's lightening scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you—?"

"He _is_," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to the boy Rebecca was now able to identify as Harry Potter.

"What?" asked Harry.

"_Harry Potter_," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."

The twins gawked at him, and Rebecca saw Harry turn red. She felt sorry for the boy, but continued to say nothing. A voice came floating through in the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mum."

With a last look at Harry, the twins jumped off the train.

Rebecca watched as Harry sat next to the open window, where he peered out of it, as if watching something. She watched him for a moment before speaking up.

"I'm Rebecca Felan," she said politely, standing and going to shake his hand.

It was Harry's turn to be startled.

"Oh!" he said, turning to face her. "Right, sorry." He stuck out his hand and shook hers. "I'm— well, you probably already know." His voice sounded defeated.

"I just read about you last night," she admitted, sitting opposite to him in the compartment. "I'm amazed I even remembered your name— I'm usually horrible with them."

"You _read_ about me?" Harry asked incredulously.

Rebecca nodded. "I don't know much about the wizarding world," she said. "I'm a muggle born."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I've been living with my uncle, aunt, and cousin for most of my life… They're muggles, too." He scoffed suddenly. "Your family was probably a bit nicer to you, at least."

"Not really," Rebecca said, surprised she was confessing so much to him after having just met him. They seemed to both be outcasts put in a difficult situation, so she supposed that was why. "They worshipped my older brother. They don't like that I'm a witch."

Harry smirked. "My uncle and aunt hate me," he said, folding and unfolding his hands in a nervous fashion. "They especially don't like knowing that I'm magical, like my parents."

"I'm sorry about them," Rebecca said abruptly. "I don't quite understand the whole situation, but I'm still sorry."

Harry nodded, seeming unable to find anything to respond with. The train began moving, and he peered out the window again.

A few minutes of silence passed over Harry and Rebecca, until the compartment door slid open to reveal a young redheaded boy who looked remarkably like the older twins that had helped Harry.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing to the seat near Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Rebecca noticed that the redhead had a black mark on his nose. She wondered if she should mention it.

"Hey, Ron."

Rebecca looked to the open compartment door to see the twins standing there.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train— Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled the younger redhead- Ron.

"Harry," said the other twin, "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

Both turned to leave, then noticed (as if for the first time) Rebecca sitting there.

"Don't think we know you," said one of the twins curiously.

"I'm Rebecca," she muttered.

"Pleasure," said both twins, then turned to leave, shutting the compartment door behind them.

"Bye," said Harry and Ron together.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded.

"Oh— well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got—you know…"

He pointed at Harry's forehead. Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightening scar. Ron stared. Rebecca blinked, wondering exactly why Harry would want to show anyone. Probably just to get them off his back, she thought. She was considering Ron's true intentions about coming into the compartment.

"So that's where You-Know-Who—?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well— I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat down and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry. Rebecca noted that he seemed generally interested in Ron.

"Er— yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron, trying to change the subject. "What are they like?"

"Horrible— well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. I wish I had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. He looked gloomy as he said this. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left— Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first."

"I know how you feel," Rebecca said reflexively. "I've got an older brother, Nicholas. He's a right prat, though. My parents love him because he does everything right, like sports and good marks, lots of friends, girlfriends… And not becoming magical," she added under her breath.

"Then you know what I'm talking about," said Ron, not hearing the last part. "You never get anything new, either, with five brothers," he continued, looking back to Harry. "I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff— I mean I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He went back to staring out the windows. Rebecca didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford another pet.

"I can understand," she told him. "I always get Nichloas' old school things." She made a face. "And he never took care of any of his things, not even pets— they all ran away eventually.

"I've never had any money in my life until a month ago," Harry added, also trying to cheer Ron up. He began telling both he and Rebecca everything, all about wearing Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to help Ron substantially.

"…and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort— "

Ron gasped. Rebecca looked at him confusedly.

"What?" said Harry, surprised.

"_You said You-Know-Who's name!_" said Ron, sounding shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you of all people—"

"I'm not trying to be _brave_ or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn… I bet," he added, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be," said Rebecca before Ron could even open his mouth. "At least you've got wizarding blood in your family." She scoffed. "All I have are muggle parents and a brother who could care less."

"There's loads of people who come from Muggle families," added Ron, "and they learn quick."

Rebecca glanced out the window, noticing that there were an abnormal number of cows and sheep in seemingly endless fields of grass. They were well out of London now.

The three continued to talk until about half past twelve when a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink again, muttering that he'd brought sandwiches. Rebecca had a little bit of spending money left over from her Diagon Alley shopping trip with Professor McGonagall, but she decided it would be best to save it. She politely shook her head and said, "No, thanks." Harry went out into the corridor.

Rebecca saw from around Harry that the cart carried all sorts of candy she had never seen before. She was able to read some names, like "Chocolate Frogs," "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," and "Cauldron Cakes." The chocolate was not something she wanted—she hated chocolate—but everything else looked positively inviting. She saw Harry take a little bit of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Ron and Rebecca stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?" Ron asked, no inflection in his voice.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bit out of a pumpkin-shaped pastry.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and mumbled, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up the strange pastry. "Go on-"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, holding the thing out to him. "You too, Rebecca," he added, giving her one as well.

"What is it?" she asked, taking the pastry and looking it over curiously.

"It's a pumpkin pasty," Ron explained through a full mouth. "Try it."

Rebecca took a small bite from the pasty, chewing it thoughtfully. She smiled, then began eating the rest of it, enjoying every bit. She liked the new, albeit strange, food.

The three began eating their way through all Harry's pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of the things labeled "Chocolate Frogs". "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know—Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect—famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't gotten Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. Rebecca peered over his shoulder, and saw a man's face looking back up at her. He wore half-moon spectacles, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore. She recognized the curious name as the Headmaster McGonagall had mentioned to her.

"So _this_ is Dumbledore!" said Harry.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. He looked to Rebecca. "You have, haven't you?" he asked her. She nodded, and he turned back to Harry. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa—thanks—"

Harry turned over his card, and Rebecca read from next to him:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry turned the card back over, and both to his and Rebecca's astonishment, the man had vanished.

"He's gone!" Harry cried.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her… do you want it? You can start collecting."

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Harry "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed.

Rebecca shook her head; Ron did the same. "_Weird_!"

Harry stared at his Dumbledore card, but Ron seemed more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the old man. Harry continued to open the pile of Chocolate Frogs, and Rebecca helped Ron eat the rest them almost as quickly as Harry could open them.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry, who was beginning to open a bag labeled Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "When they say every flavor, they _mean_ every flavor—you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavored one once."

Rebecca made a face as Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh—see? Sprouts."

The three had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Rebecca got chocolate, salt, and strawberry before getting one that put her off for good: ear wax. She grimaced, and the boys laughed, until Harry nibbled on one that tasted of pepper. Then it was her turn to snicker.

When Rebecca looked out the window next, she saw that the fields that had been flying past the train had now turned to woods and dark, green hills.

There was a knock on the compartment door and a round-faced boy came in. He looked tearful, and Rebecca immediately felt sorry for him.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed. "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him…"

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing in Ron's lap.

"I think he's cute," Rebecca said. She didn't like how Ron continued to put his own pet down. Both boys looked at her. "In that weird sort of way…"

Ron shook his head. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," he said in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

She watched as Ron rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway—"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. Rebecca noted that she had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you going to do magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down across from Ron, next to Rebecca. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er— all right."

He cleared his throat.

"_Sunshine, daises, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow._"

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard— I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough— I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast.

Harry looked at Ron, then at Rebecca. Both had stunned looks on their faces, and Rebecca was relieved by both boys' similar expressions to hers. Apparently, they hadn't learned all their textbooks by heart, either.

"Rebecca Felan," she said, nodding to the girl.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course— I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, did you know, I'd have found everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do any of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. Rebecca shook her head, trying to rid her ears from the sound of the girl's bossy voice.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell— George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. His face suddenly drooped with gloom. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw _would_ be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

"So?" asked Rebecca. "That doesn't mean all Slytherins are bad, does it?" She looked to Ron; he stared back at her as if she were crazy.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry, trying to change the subject quickly. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the _Daily Prophet_, but I don't suppose either of you get that with the Muggles— someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry and Rebecca stared at him. She had only been there the day before. Since when had this happened?

"Really? What happened to them?" asked Harry.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Rebecca listened carefully. All this talk of Dark wizards and this You-Know-Who person was driving her crazy. Harry knew this wizard's name, but everyone was too afraid to even hear it mentioned. She would have to ask about all of this later.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked them both eagerly.

"Er— I don't know any," Harry confessed.

Rebecca shrugged her shoulders, not knowing at all what Ron was talking about.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you both wait, it's the best game in the world—" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was taking Harry and Rebecca through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered. Two of them were much larger than the third, who was a ghastly pale boy. Despite the two larger boys' size, they all looked about Rebecca's age.

"Is it true?" asked the pale boy. "They're all saying down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry.

The two larger boys were intimidating, standing on either side of the pale boy like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carefully, noticing that Harry was looking at them. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which was hiding a snigger as far as Rebecca was concerned. She didn't move as Draco Malfoy looked at Ron.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared on his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Harry and Ron stood up. Rebecca grabbed for both of their wrists, but the boys fought with her.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Stop," Rebecca hissed at him.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Get out," Rebecca told him, standing between the three boys and Harry and Ron.

"We don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron— Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle—Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, and all three of them disappeared at once. A second later, Hermione Granger came in.

"What _has_ been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No— I don't believe it— he's gone back to sleep."

And so he had.

"You've met Malfoy before?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry explained to them about his meeting with Malfoy in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right, but I don't suppose you'll want to change in here with them, do you?" Hermione asked Rebecca. Rebecca shook her head. "Follow me, then, you can change in the compartment across the way." She went to the door, Rebecca following close behind after she had retrieved her robes. Before they left, Hermione looked to Ron. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Rebecca followed Hermione across the hall and down a few doors before she opened an empty compartment.

"There were some people in here before, but they all left," Hermione explained quickly. "I'll watch the door while you change inside."

"Thank you," Rebecca said with a meek smile before stepping inside the compartment and closing the door behind her.

A few moments passed, then a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts within five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Rebecca paused only for a moment, a wave of fear sweeping over her. She pulled on her new skirt, shaking her head at how silly she was being. Soon she was dressed and knocked on the door, signaling Hermione to open it.

"Come on!" Hermione said excitedly. "Everyone's going to the front, Rebecca, let's go!" She took the red head's hand in hers and pulled her forward. They were soon stopped by the many other students trying to get off the train at once. The train soon slowed down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Rebecca took in a breath, and noticed the frigid air around her. She loved it immediately. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and a booming voice thundered over all:

"C'mon follow me— any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

"That is possibly the largest man I've ever seen," Rebecca heard Hermione say under her breath. She nodded in agreement, unable to take her eyes from the man.

He stood at least seven feet tall, and was by her estimation five feet wide at the shoulders. He had long, black hair that rested at his shoulders in a tangled mess, and a beard that blended in with the hair already around his shoulders. Rebecca wasn't frightened of him, just intrigued. She and Hermione soon caught up with Harry and Ron, who were near the large man.

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Rebecca thought there had to be trees around them. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the large man, whom Harry said was named Hagrid, called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!" Even Rebecca couldn't help herself.

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Rebecca made for a boat in the front, but saw that Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville were already aboard another. She bit her lower lip as three other students unknown to her entered her boat and sat around her.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then—FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. Rebecca felt overwhelmed by the sight, but caught the gasp in her throat before she allowed it to escape.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. Rebecca managed to catch up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then the clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto a smooth, damp grass right in the shadows of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

_The Sorting, September 1991_

"Felan, Rebecca!" called Professor McGonagall.

Rebecca stopped. How had they completely skipped over three letters of the alphabet? She took a breath in and bit her lower lip a little more gingerly this time. She stepped up to the stool, McGonagall looking kindly at her over the parchment. Rebecca felt all the eyes in the entire room on her, including the ones at the staff table. The man directly in the middle with the long, white hair and beard looked indifferently, yet interestedly, over his half-moon spectacles at her as she approached the bench. She recognized him from the card; it was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

Finally, Rebecca picked up the hat, placed it on her head, and sat down on the stool.

"You don't seem familiar at all," said a tiny voice in her ear. "You're a muggle born, aren't you? Hmm, no matter…"

All was quiet for but a moment. Rebecca was stunned that the hat was speaking to her so frankly.

"You know nothing, but you have an astounding will, and yearning, to learn. Ravenclaw would be good for that. Ah, but a kindness is within you—a justness—qualities of Hufflepuff. And there is a deeply set braveness about you when the time arises—a good solid Gryffindor quality. But I see what prevails the most in you is the wanting to prove yourself, to be noticed, to be everything and more. Well, if you're as cunning as you are smart, you'll do well in SLYTHERIN!"

There was no cheers from the Slytherin table as Rebecca stood timidly, placing the hat back on the stool. She stared wide-eyed at Professor McGonagall, who looked blankly at her for many long, tense and quiet moments.

"Go take a seat, dear," the older witch finally said.

Rebecca nodded, keeping her head cast downward as she walked to the center table. She sat beside Millicent, who had been the first and only Slytherin up until the hat had called out the house name. The large girl and all the other Slytherins stared at her as if she were a disease. Rebecca stared hard at the golden plate before her, wondering how she had ended up here. She could tell she did not belong at all.

She couldn't focus on much of the Sorting until a familiar name arose.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

She watched as the pale, blonde boy sauntered up to the stool. The hat wasn't on his head fully when the thing shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table let out a cheer as Malfoy joined his friends Crabbe and Goyle at the table. He then turned his sights on Rebecca.

"Well, well," he said, placing his hands on his hips, a smirk plastered on his face, "looks like we've got a Mudblood in our midst."

The entire table seemed to turn at once to glare at Rebecca. She didn't know what a Mudblood was, but she could tell from Malfoy's tone that it had a negative meaning to it.

"Tell me, how did you fool the Hat into putting you into this house?" Malfoy continued, Crabbe and Goyle chuckling behind him. "Don't you want to be with your friends Potter and Weasley?"

She glanced up at him; he was still smirking. She hated this boy even more than she had on the train. She felt the anger welling up inside of her, and her hands began to grip the case so hard, she had to let go for fear of smashing it and hurting her pet. Instead, she gripped the side of the table.

"Sit down," a hoarse voice whispered.

Rebecca looked over her shoulder to see the bloody ghost who had been watching her before come up behind Malfoy. The boy followed orders, taking a seat away from Rebecca. The ghost nodded at her, then floated down to the other side of the table, where he stopped near Malfoy.

"The Bloody Baron likes her, at least," she heard a boy across and down a few seats murmur. She looked up at him. He had slightly uneven teeth, short, black hair, and dark brown eyes and was watching her guardedly. He had almost the same gravelly voice that the ghost—the Bloody Baron—had, but with a softer touch. He was older, definitely, but how much she didn't know. She hoped that he would be kind, or at least civil to her, but this house was proving to be anything but those traits.

"Potter, Harry!"

She looked up, hearing a chuckle from Malfoy as she did so. Harry stepped forward, whispers breaking out all over the hall. He sat down on the stool and put the hat on, which came over his eyes. There was a long pause. Rebecca crossed her fingers under the table, hoping that he would not get placed in this horrible house.

"Gryffindor!" shouted the hat finally.

Harry took off the hat and walked shakily to the Gryffindor table. He was getting the loudest cheer yet, Rebecca noticed, and she was silently ecstatic for him.

She tried to pay attention to the rest of the sorting in an attempt to ignore the continuing glares she was getting from her own house. She also noticed one of the professors in particular watching her. He had black, greasy hair and a long nose, and black eyes. He was the first person Rebecca had seen with black eyes. He was watching her the way the Bloody Baron had been earlier, as if considering her. Rebecca pulled her gaze away as "Weasley, Ron" was called.

Again, she crossed her fingers. A second after Ron put on the hat, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Ron went to take his place next to Harry.

The last person on the list was "Zabini, Blaise" who was made a Slytherin. He came and sat down beside the last person called, Pansy Parkinson. Rebecca sighed as McGonagall rolled up her parchment and took the Sorting Hat away. She wanted the feast to be over with, but didn't at the same time, since it would mean going back to the dorms with these people who very obviously didn't like her at all.

Albus Dumbledore got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered, except for the Slytherin table, who did what Rebecca knew to be a golf clap.

"Bloody tart," she heard Malfoy grumble to the others.

Looking down, Rebecca saw that the plates and bowls in front of her that had been empty were now full to the brim with delicious-smelling food. Her goblet was filled with an orange liquid. She took a sip; it tasted of pumpkin, and it was very good. She reached for the nearest plate of boiled potatoes, but had it snatched away from her by quicker hands. She went quickly for the roast chicken that was close by, putting some on her plate before placing it back on the table.

She went on in this manner for about ten minutes, until she was full. The rest of her house was eating and talking and sounding very happy to be there. Rebecca looked at her empty plate, unwilling to speak with anyone. She heard a grunt behind her, and turned to stare straight into the Bloody Baron's transparent, silvery eyes. She was too stunned to say anything.

"The Sorting Hat placed you here for a reason, muggleborn," he whispered gruffly. "Now act like it."

Rebecca felt her eyebrows meet and crease in the middle of her forehead.

"My name is Rebecca, and I would appreciate it if you called me that," she told him.

The Baron stared at her, and she met his gaze until his lips turned slightly in a tiny smile. He chuckled; it sounded like falling boulders to her.

"You've got it," said the Baron, "now show them." He pointed down the table at the other Slytherins.

Rebecca looked down the table at the others. She didn't know what to say to them. She felt that she couldn't say anything to them, not yet at least. She was too naïve; she knew nothing of the wizarding world—at least, nothing compared to what they knew. Then it hit her: she needed to find the library…

* * *

_Snape and Dumbledore speak, November 1991_

_Rebecca licked her lips and took in a breath before she answered. "Asphodel and wormwood make a potion called the Draught of the Living Death, sir. It's a very powerful sleeping potion, and, as the name suggests, the person who takes the potion will appear as though they are dead." She paused and glanced at him. "A bezoar is a stone that is taken from the stomach of a goat." She glanced at Harry. "It can save you from most poisons. And what I meant just a few moments ago," she added, her eyes flicking back to Professor Snape, "is that monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant." She paused. "But it also goes by the name of aconite."_

Albus chuckled as he removed himself from his Pensieve. Severus, as usual, had a stony expression.

"There is no doubt of her intelligence, Severus," Albus said, motioning for the man to take back his memories. "I am glad that you have shown me your interactions with her. I've been quite worried by our Miss Felan."

"Yes, she has been a lot to handle," Severus commented. "Especially after that incident in the Great Hall and the troll at Halloween." He was, of course, referring to the incident where Draco Malfoy had placed magical fireworks inside of Miss Felan's schoolbag and charmed it to explode as soon as she entered the Great Hall. Severus had had clean up duty, the two being in his House. Draco had not been pleased with him, as the boy had to be punished.

Albus' eyes twinkled. Severus hated when he did that; it always meant that he was up to something. Suddenly, the Headmaster's expression turned solemn.

"Yes, it was good that she and Messers Potter and Weasley were there to help Miss Granger," he said. "It is a shame, however, that Rebecca cannot seem to make any friends in Slytherin."

Severus scoffed. "Do you think any will wish to with her lineage so apparent?" he asked, meaning it rhetorically.

Albus sighed. "I suppose not," he said, shrugging as he took his seat back in his chair behind his desk. He patted Fawkes' head for a moment before continuing. "Are we certain that she has no magical blood in her family? The Sorting Hat would not place someone who was not at least half-blooded into Slytherin." He looked to the Sorting Hat that sat quietly on top of the shelf.

"Her parents are muggles," Severus said evenly. "Minerva told you as much. Neither set of grandparents appear to be alive, so we cannot refer to them. Her parents also want nothing to do with the magical world, particularly her father, it seems."

When Minerva had described Miss Felan's father to him, Severus had felt a jerking at his memories. Mr. Roger Felan reminded him of his own father in many ways, though he did not appear to have been physically abusing his daughter, just ignoring her to the best of his abilities, especially now while she was away at school.

"Yes," Albus said, sounding defeated. "I was just hoping that there would be some explanation behind the uncanny likeness between Rebecca and Lily Potter."

Severus froze in his seat. Minerva had brought up the subject of Miss Felan's appearance lightly to Severus, wanting to warn him well before the girl was to get to Hogwarts on September the first. Albus spoke of it almost flippantly around Severus. What the old man was getting at, he didn't know. He just knew he didn't like it.

Severus narrowed his eyes at Albus. "Perhaps it is merely a coincidence," he muttered darkly.

"I suppose it will remain a mystery until we are given evidence to the contrary," Albus said.

"Quite."


	2. Second Year

**Author's Note:** Anything that looks familiar in this chapter is from _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets _by J.K. Rowling. It is not my intention to make money off of this.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Second Year**

_Snape and Dumbledore speak, Early May 1992_

"Miss Granger is the fifth victim," Albus said coolly to Severus. Albus' hands were folded upon one another as he sat behind his desk.

Severus sat across the desk from the older wizard, silent, thinking.

"Minerva took Messers Potter and Weasley as well as Miss Felan to see her earlier," Albus continued.

"How did they… take the news?" Severus asked carefully. Albus had expressed his concern just after Mrs. Norris, Filch's damned cat, had been petrified and the message on the wall had been discovered. He, too, was worried about his muggleborn Slytherin.

"They were all quite shaken up, Minerva informed me," Albus said. "As you know, Severus, Miss Felan sees and understands implications well before her friends, excluding Miss Granger, of course. She was more visibly shaken, Minerva said." He paused, watching the Slytherin Head of House.

"She is concerned that she will be the next target?" Severus asked.

"That is what I can only imagine."

Albus rubbed a hand over his face. He suddenly looked more tired, older, than he had in years to Severus.

"What are we going to do, Severus?" Albus whispered, leaning back in his chair. "Cornelius said that he was coming by as soon as he was told of Miss Granger's attack. He wishes to speak to Hagrid." He met the other man's eyes. "They are going to remove Hagrid and myself from the castle."

Severus sneered. Removing the half-giant was of no consequence to him, but the removal of Albus? That was another thing altogether.

"Are they mad?" Severus snapped. "Does the Ministry understand nothing?"

The wards signaled suddenly as a purplish blue light beside Albus' desk. Both men stared at it for a moment. Albus, still watching the light, replied, "I am afraid not, Severus."

Finally, he looked to the darker wizard. "I will have to ask Minerva to take charge of the castle, Severus," he said. "However, I want you to watch out for the remaining muggleborn students, particularly our Miss Felan. The Slytherins may be rejoicing far too much about the new occurrences." He paused. "She will need your guidance."

Severus nodded.

"Cornelius is on his way to my office," Albus said. "Go, Severus."

"Albus—"

"Don't worry too much about me, Severus," Albus said quickly, putting on his smile, the sparkle back in his too-blue eyes. "Things will work out."

"We can only hope," Severus muttered. He bowed his head to his Headmaster. "Good luck, Albus."

"I will see you soon, Severus," Albus said with a smile.

The Potions Master exited the room quickly and watched as Albus began to escort Fudge, presumably, to Hagrid's hut.

* * *

_The Aftermath, Late May 1992_

Rebecca sat under the scrutiny of the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the latter two she had not met until this very moment. She sat with Ron and Lockhart, who they'd had to place in a chair, as he was unconscious. That would be Rebecca's fault. After Lockhart had had the Memory Charm reverse upon him (thanks to Ron's wand), she had found him quite annoying. It was better if he was unconscious, she'd decided.

Now, Harry was explaining what had happened whilst the five of them were down in the Chamber. Rebecca shivered every once in a while at the thought. Mrs. Weasley held tightly onto Ginny, and Mr. Weasley was hugging Ron, though not as tightly. Rebecca stood awkwardly, thinking back as Harry told their tale.

She remembered being able to blast through the rocks after a few tries with her wand and Lockhart's wand, since Ron didn't want to chance using his wand again. They'd helped Harry distract the basilisk enough so that their friend could kill the giant snake. The thoughts alone were frightening, and Rebecca wondered where they had gotten their courage from.

The adults were all quiet until they got to the end. Then, Dumbledore spoke.

"What interests _me_ most is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania."

His sources? Rebecca wondered. She would have to file that information away for later.

"It was his diary," said Harry quickly, interrupting Mrs. Weasley, who was sputtering incoherently. He picked up the diary and showed it to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen."

Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… traveled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many transformations, then when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with—with—_him_?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year—"

"_Ginny_!" said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you _anything_?"

At that moment, the door opened, and Professor Snape entered the room. This did not, of course, deter Mr. Weasley in his speech to his daughter. It did, however, make Ron and Harry a bit jumpy. Minerva and Albus nodded their greeting to the Potions Master. Rebecca sighed, figuring Dumbledore had sent for the man as soon as he saw her with Harry and Ron. She wasn't sure how Dumbledore had done it without her noticing, but she assumed that the man had ways; he was Headmaster, after all.

Professor Snape appeared to be slightly out of breath, as if he had run up from the Dungeons as soon as he had been summoned. He nodded back to Dumbledore and McGonagall before looking at Rebecca, as if checking her for harm. Then, it seemed as though he changed within seconds. He was staring at her with his penetrating gaze. Rebecca cringed, remembering their conversation that they had had once the muggleborn students had begun to be petrified. She had promised him that she'd stay out of harm's way and not do anything stupid, like following Harry and Ron blindly.

Dumbledore was soon dismissing Ginny and her parents, leaving only the professors and the students in the room. Harry, Ron, and Rebecca huddled together a bit unconsciously.

"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "I think all this merits a good _feast_. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said Professor McGonagall crispy, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter, Weasley, and Felan, shall I?"

"Certainly."

She left, and the Headmaster turned his attentions to Professor Snape.

"I do appreciate your coming up so quickly, Severus, but I must ask you to wait just a few moments more before I leave you to your Slytherin," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Rebecca saw Professor Snape scowl, but assent. He left the room, too.

Dumbledore looked to the two boys. "I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," he said. Harry and Ron looked thoroughly stunned and frightened. He looked to Rebecca. "And I seem to recall Professor Snape mentioning to me that you would keep yourself safe, Miss Felan. A muggleborn going into the Chamber of Secrets is certainly not my definition of safe."

Rebecca hung her head. Ron opened his mouth in horror.

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore went on, smiling. "You all will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and—let me see—yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor and two hundred for Slytherin."

Rebecca stared at the man. She was being rewarded, too? She hadn't even done anything worth being awarded.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore added. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

Rebecca's eyes widened as she turned around to where Dumbledore was looking. Lockhart was up, standing in a corner of the room, wearing a vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart—"

"Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired," Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.

Rebecca kept silent, looking at the exchange between Dumbledore and Ron.

"Dear me," said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

"Sword?" said Lockhart dimly. "I haven't got a sword. That boy has, though." He pointed to Harry. "He'll lend you one."

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?" Dumbledore said to Ron. "And Miss Felan, Professor Snape is waiting just outside to escort you back to your common room. I'd like a few more words with Harry."

Ron gave Rebecca an apologetic look and she shrugged. They both looked at Harry, who was watching Dumbledore. When she, Lockhart, and Ron stepped out into the corridor, Lockhart nearly ran into Professor Snape, who was pacing outside the Headmaster's office.

"Oh, hello!" Lockhart said with a smile.

Snape glared at him and Lockhart recoiled.

"Not a very friendly chap, that one," Lockhart half-whispered to Ron as the redhead led him quickly away and toward the infirmary.

That left Rebecca and Snape facing one another. Rebecca swallowed the lump that had taken up residence in her throat.

"Professor, I—"

"Not here, Miss Felan," the Potions Master snapped at her. "In my office."

He turned on his heel and started down the corridor, leaving Rebecca running rather quickly to catch up with him. He looked furious, she thought. She knew better than to speak. Instead, she let silence fall over them until they were behind the closed door of his office. She sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs on the one side of his desk. Professor Snape swept across the room and settled in his larger, comfier looking chair.

The man steepled his fingers before his face, staring at her for a moment before speaking.

"What did I tell you earlier in the year, Miss Felan?" he asked, his voice low. It sounded as though he barely had any control over his emotions, the predominate one being anger.

Rebecca swallowed again. "You told me to stay out of trouble, sir, to stay safe" she said quietly.

"Was that order so hard to follow, Miss Felan?" he snapped again.

"Hermione was in trouble, sir," Rebecca continued in her quiet voice. "So was Ron's sister. I couldn't let my friends down."

She heard him make a sound that could have been a growl. Everything went quiet for a few, long minutes. Rebecca shifted in her chair.

Finally, he looked at her. "The Headmaster rewarded you?"

Rebecca was miffed by the sudden change of topic. "Yes, sir, more than I deserve, I think."

He placed his hands flat upon his desk. "You, a muggleborn student, entered the Chamber of Secrets without any concern to your own well-being in order to save your friend's sister and you believe you did nothing to be rewarded for?"

Rebecca blinked at him. "Ron and I only distracted the basilisk," she muttered. "We did it so Harry could kill it." Then, without another thought, she added, "And I stunned Professor Lockhart after the Memory Charm backfired on him."

The Potions Master stared at her blankly. "I beg your pardon, Miss Felan?"

Rebecca shrank in her seat. "I stunned Professor Lockhart," she said. "We couldn't have him running around while we were trying to help Harry, and he was really annoying once he'd lost his mind. Ron didn't want to, so I did." She looked to the floor for a moment, then back up at him.

She saw Professor Snape's mouth turn up in a smirk for only a moment before he quickly hid his pleasure.

"I believe that that is something we can keep between us, Miss Felan," he told her.

"Really?"

"Don't sound so incredulous," Professor Snape said, leaning on his desk. "Most of the professors here would have enjoyed the opportunity to stun Lockhart, myself included. I would award you a point to Slytherin for it, however, I do not think I could explain to the Headmaster why exactly I awarded you anymore points than necessary."

"He awarded me two hundred," Rebecca said meekly. "It's more than I deserve."

"You must learn to be less self-deprecating, Miss Felan, it's very tedious."

"My apologies, sir."

Professor Snape sighed, still looking at her. Suddenly, he stood. "I'll walk you back to the common room, Miss Felan."

He opened the door to his office for her, all traces of his anger completely gone. Rebecca stole a glance up at him.

"Why were you so concerned for me this year, professor?"

She saw him stiffen in his stance only slightly, and he did not meet her gaze. "Because you are one of my students," he replied. "A muggleborn student in a House that has none. As your Head of House, it is my duty to watch over each student in my care. The Headmaster was particularly concerned about you and your friendship with Messers Potter and Weasley after Miss Granger was attacked. We did not know who the creature would attack next."

"'We,' sir?"

"Professor Dumbledore and the rest of the professors were trying to keep tabs on the creature," Professor Snape said quickly. Rebecca didn't think that's what "we" had meant, but she let it go.

They had reached the common room entrance, and Professor Snape was about to turn away when Rebecca said, "I'm sorry for upsetting you, professor."

He turned to look at her.

"It wasn't my intention."

The Potions Master said nothing, only looked at her for a few moments more before turning to return to his office.


	3. Third Year

**Chapter Three: Third Year**

_Snape, Dumbledore, and Lupin speak, October 1993_

"What I still do not understand, Severus, is why you taught my third years about werewolves while I was absent."

Remus Lupin was, and had always been, a very quiet and private person. However, if there was always one person who had been able to get under his skin, it was Severus Snape. Remus thought that they had put everything behind them about their school days, especially with Snape making him the Wolfsbane Potion every month. Apparently, Remus had been wrong.

"Now, Remus," Albus said, raising a hand to the man. "Allow Severus a chance to explain his actions."

Remus was positively seething. The three men were in Albus' office, as Remus had brought this act to the Headmaster's attention. The older wizard, in turn, had sent for Severus.

Severus, on the other hand, looked as if none of this was bothering him in the least. In fact, Remus even saw the beginnings of a smirk on his face.

"Thank you, Albus," Severus said with a nod of his head. "I merely taught the third years what I thought Lupin should have been teaching them at this point in the year." He looked pointedly at Remus. "At least it wasn't a practical lesson."

Remus tightened his hands into fists and opened his mouth to retort.

"Severus, I must say that it was very poor judgment on your part to give a lesson to the students on werewolves," Albus said. His eyes were not twinkling, and his voice had the edge of a scolding tone to it.

"There are some students in that classroom who are not so dense as to be unable to figure things out on their own," Severus said as he studied his fingernails.

"Did you know that Rebecca came to see me this afternoon, Severus?" Remus asked quietly.

Severus turned his attention to Lupin. He was not aware of what had just been revealed. Had the girl figured out what he had wanted her to? What he had wanted the rest of the students to understand about their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? He supposed, thinking back, that only she and Granger would be the ones to discover what he had been getting at with the lesson, but it was a start.

"Did she?" Severus asked, his lips thinning.

"She came to ask how I was feeling," Remus continued. "She told me that though she didn't understand what I was going through at each full moon, she empathized with me." Remus recalled the terror he had felt when the girl had told him that she knew what he was. "She told me that my secret was safe, but that she didn't want to go about pretending to not know what I was. She wanted me to know that there were at least some who understood what it was like to not be accepted by their peers and others."

"I see," Severus said.

"Miss Felan has always been one to show compassion where it is needed," Albus interjected.

"That she has," Remus said. "Which brings me to wonder, Severus: did you want her to find out? You must have known that she would. What were you trying to prove?"

"I did wish the students to find out," Severus said, knowing that he could hide his true motives no longer. "I thought they should know _what they were up against_."

"Severus, that is _enough_!" Dumbledore said. He thumped his fist against the arm of his chair. Fawkes stirred on his perch behind the Headmaster. "I do not feel that I should have to punish my professors. You are acting as though you and Remus are back in your schooldays. What is the matter with you, Severus?"

Severus scowled. There was nothing wrong with him. He detested Lupin, detested the lot that he had hung around in school, and especially detested him for what he was, for what he had almost done to him all those years ago. He was the reason that he owed James Potter a life debt.

"You are both dismissed," Albus said with a wave of his hand. "You will not be substituting for Remus any longer on the days of the full moon, Severus. It is clear that the position goes quite too quickly to your head."

* * *

_Snape and Rebecca speak, June 1993_

"Did you think it a wise decision to stun me, Miss Felan?" Professor Snape asked, having the girl in his office.

"No, sir, of course not," the girl implored.

Albus had, of course, explained the situation to him. He had sent Granger, Felan, and Potter back in time with the help of Granger's Time Turner to save Sirius Black and Buckbeak. And, of course, Severus had been stunned by three third year students when he tried to arrest Lupin and Black. Today was a terrible day, indeed.

"They did it before I could stop them, sir," Rebecca continued. "I wanted to explain to you what was going on, but you wouldn't listen, professor."

"And just what exactly did go on, Miss Felan?"

"Sirius didn't kill all those people, it was Peter Pettigrew," Rebecca said.

"Quite."

Rebecca knew her Head of House was enraged. She would be too, if she were him. Being bested by a couple of third years did sting the ego a bit. However, so many exciting things had happened today to her and her friends that it was hard to worry about Professor Snape, even with the man sitting angrily just a few feet in front of her.

"Peter hid as Ron's rat, sir," Rebecca tried to continue.

Professor Snape held up a hand to stop her.

"Albus has informed me of everything, Miss Felan, so there is no reason for your ramblings," he said, stopping her short.

"Then why am I here, sir?"

Professor Snape made a long pause.

"So that I may advise you to no longer maintain your friendship with the Gryffindors," he said.

Rebecca looked at him strangely. "They're my only friends, sir," she said. "I couldn't give them up."

"Miss Felan, I don't think you understand the extent of what is happening in the world around you," he said, not allowing her to speak any longer. "You are in a very bad position, Miss Felan. I'm speaking of your lineage, which, of course, you could not help, but also of your place in the school. There are wizards and witches out there who do not like you. They do not like you so much that you are their target."

Rebecca considered what he said for a moment. Then, a thought struck her. She had not thought about it since the end of last year, but she remembered it all this time. What he had just told her triggered it.

"Do you have anything to do, sir, with Professor Dumbledore's information upon the Dark Lord's whereabouts?"

Professor Snape's face remained impassive, though the grip he had on the arms of his chair tightened visibly. His knuckles were white.

"An astute observation, Miss Felan," he said noncommittally, showing quite an amount of restraint in his voice. "Knowing that you have only touched the mere surface of understanding in these particular matters, what do you say to my advice?"

"I would be inclined to take it, sir, but I don't think my life will be any better for it."

He looked as if he wanted to smack her. "You put your life in danger by befriending the _Golden_ _Trio_, girl!" he suddenly spat at her. He was standing now, coming around his desk to loom in front of her. "Do you not understand the severity of your situation? You could be _killed_ because of your associations with them."

Though Rebecca had not moved and continued to meet her professor's gaze, he was frightening her terribly. She wanted to cringe, but she found she was frozen in her seat.

"I don't understand why you care so much, Professor Snape," she said, her voice weak from fear. "Is it because that's what the Headmaster charged you to do? To watch over me?"

She watched as he shrunk back immediately at her words.

"No, Miss Felan, it is not," he said, almost too quietly for her to hear. "Get back to the common room."

Rebecca was out of his office faster than she had ever done so. He had never frightened her this much before.


	4. Fourth Year

**Author's Note:** A longer chapter, huzzah! From here on out, the chapters will definitely be beefy, so I hope you all enjoy reading them. :)

* * *

**Chapter Four: Fourth Year**

_Snape and Dumbledore speak, June 1995_

"Absolutely not!" Severus said, rising from his chair across from Dumbledore in his anger.

Once again, they were in the Headmaster's office. Albus sat serenely across the way from Severus, hands crossed on top of his desk as he stared quietly at the Potions Master.

"Tom has returned, Severus," Albus said matter-of-factly. "We have you on the outside, but we need someone who is closer to the students." He paused. "You cannot always be in the common room."

"Neither can Miss Felan!" Severus shouted at him. He raked his fingers through his hair, unable to fathom why Albus would sink so low as to want to make a _student_, let alone _his student_, a spy for the Order.

"None of the other Order members will allow her to join," Severus argued, glaring at the man who had become his mentor over the years.

"Only the most important ones will be told," Albus continued.

"Oh? And who do you deem important?"

"Obviously the two of us, as well as Alastor, Minerva, Sirius and Remus. No one outside of the six of us will know, especially any of the Weasleys. Miss Felan and the six of us must keep this a secret from her friends and those still in connection with the Ministry."

"Yes, it wouldn't do well for Molly to learn that a girl she's come to love as a daughter will become a spy just like your other Slytherin pet."

"Severus, enough," Albus said. His voice was barely above a whisper, but even Severus felt the power behind it. It was times like these that Severus wondered what others must think of Albus upon first meeting him. He seems so innocent, so cheerful. It was unfortunate that it was all a ruse. In actuality, Albus Dumbledore was a terribly manipulative, conniving old bastard.

Severus and Albus held one another's gazes for a full minute before Albus' look softened. The older man sighed.

"I did not wish it to come to this," Albus said. "But we must know what is going on. Miss Felan, unfortunately, happens to be the perfect person to choose for this job. She is in an inconspicuous position with your Slytherins, Severus, as you well know. They have ignored her, except for a few instances, her entire schooling here. She has the ability to be in the common room without being seen. And, with her close friendship with Harry, the ones who do not wish to follow Tom's ruling will come to her because of him. She can convince them to turn to us, to the Order, for protection, if the need arises."

"No Slytherin in their right mind would dare to defy their families right now," Severus said.

"Perhaps not anytime soon, Severus, but soon enough," he said. "If that happens, she must know how to deal with these students. What is more, she has friends outside of her own House and is a frequenter of the Gryffindor common room as well."

Severus bristled. This was news to him.

"Excuse me, Albus?"

"She is quite the clever girl for you to not have known, Severus," Albus said with that _damned_ twinkle in his eye. "She can also keep a watch on Harry for us when we cannot."

Albus paused. Severus could think of nothing to say. There would be nothing to say to him now. Once Albus had made up his mind, the man was like a Bludger.

"Even further, Severus, you have told me yourself that she is a target because of her heritage and her House," Albus continued quietly. "If we allow her into the Order, she will receive training in Occlumency and also more defensive spells. She'll also be schooled in some basic mediwitchery."

"She won't be able to attend meetings," Severus said.

"Not the regular ones, of course," Albus agreed. "Not with this being so secret. Hers will be shortened, and she will only be told things that will help her position as a spy. She is, after all, and regrettably, still underage. She may not even take to Occlumency, so the less Miss Felan knows about the Order, the better."

Severus scoffed. "Miss Felan not take to a subject?" he asked, incredulous. "Clearly, Albus, you do not know enough about my Slytherin's determination." He smirked rather pridefully.

Albus smiled back at him. Severus' face fell at a thought.

"You'll want me to be her mentor."

"There's no one else for the job, Severus," Albus said.

"Regrettably?" Severus asked with a sneer.

"Never. You are the best spy we have. You are perfect to train Miss Felan."

"Alastor will help her with the finer points of defense, I assume?"

"Yes, but we can't have it be practical until she's at school, I'm afraid. Perhaps Minerva can hire her, so to speak, as her assistant for this year."

"She is not going to like keeping secrets from her friends," Severus said.

"But she will do whatever she can to help them," Albus said. "Even if that means lying to them."

Severus sighed. "I'm afraid you understand Miss Felan better than I originally thought, Albus."

The Headmaster smiled back at him. "I enjoy watching diligently over the 'special' students."

He stood and began for the door. "I have already been in contact with the other four that have been mentioned today," he said. "They have all agreed, with some arguing, that it is necessary to bring Miss Felan into the mix. Sirius seemed more intrigued with the idea than the others, who all fought against it at first just as you did, Severus."

"Yes, I'm certain Black is excited about another Slytherin in his midst," Severus commented sarcastically.

"He remembers Miss Felan from your debacle last year in the Whomping Willow," Albus said quickly. "He liked her then. He said he was surprised a Slytherin had the guts to stand up to Remus when he changed."

"Stupid girl," Severus muttered.

"I must catch Miss Felan before she reaches the train so that I may speak with her," Albus said. "She will be staying at Grimmauld Place this summer, before the others even arrive."

"When will you send for Weasley the younger and the Granger girl?"

"Very shortly after Miss Felan arrives," Albus said. "She will not be staying at her parents' lodgings for more than an hour, to gather her things."

"How will that be explained to them?"

Albus smiled, twinkling at him again. "You must have faith in your Slytherin, Severus. I'm sure she will be quite the actress once you've trained her."

* * *

_Dumbledore and Rebecca speak, June 1995_

Rebecca was making her way across the grounds with her luggage floating behind her when she noticed the Headmaster lazily walking beside her. His appearance was very sudden, as she didn't recall hearing anyone approach her. Professor Dumbledore still produced a certain amount of awe within her, as she had little contact with him for the most part. He was a very powerful wizard, even though his eccentricities, which she partly thought were acts, covered that up quite nicely most of the time.

"Afternoon, professor," she said with a nod, stopping. She had been one of the last out of the common room, which she liked better. She was going to meet up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the train so they would be able to talk of everything that had just occurred at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry was, obviously, still very shaken up by it.

"Good afternoon, indeed, Miss Felan," the Headmaster replied, smiling at her. "Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"No thanks, sir," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

"Ah, well," Dumbledore said, shrugging as he popped the sweet into his mouth. "You were just the person I was looking for, Miss Felan. I wished to speak with you about an important matter before you left Hogwarts today."

"Is that right, sir?" she asked, furrowing her brows at him.

"Quite right, Miss Felan," Dumbledore said. He paused, as if considering her.

Suddenly, she felt his gaze upon her, similar to that of Professor Snape's. She looked away from him quickly, recognizing it as the pull of Legilimency. She had begun looking up Dark Magic more after she'd had the curious experience involving Professor Snape that felt as though his gaze were trying to pierce into her brain. She'd discovered that she hadn't been far off in her assumptions. Now, it seemed that Dumbledore was able to do the same thing. She had to remember to not look him in the eye.

"I do apologize, Miss Felan," Dumbledore said quickly. "I was not aware that you were able to sense Legilimency."

"I don't like it when people stare too intently at me," she said, trying to play dumb.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Of course," he said knowingly. "Now, Miss Felan, I wanted to ask you how much you know about the first war against Voldemort."

"Not too much, I'm afraid," she said quickly, looking just to the sides of his eyes (just in case).

"Have you heard of an Order of the Phoenix, by chance?"

"No."

"Splendid, it seems we've done our jobs, then, and not gotten ourselves into any textbooks you might have read," Dumbledore said. "The Order of the Phoenix was started in the first war by me, Miss Felan. I used it as a sort of vigilante group in order to aid the Ministry in defeating Voldemort."

"I see."

"We have started it up again because of your friend Mr. Potter's statement of Voldemort's return."

Rebecca stared at him. "Harry's not lying."

"I don't believe that he is lying, Miss Felan," Dumbledore said. "And I'm very glad to hear that you are on his side. I fear the Ministry is not going to be too pleased with Harry in the coming months."

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably at that thought. "Is there anything I can do to help Harry?"

"I'm delighted that you asked, Miss Felan, as that is _precisely_ the reason why I wished to speak with you," Dumbledore said, brightening at her question. "You see, I wanted to ask if you would be willing to help your friend— all of them, in fact, not just Harry. In order to do so, however, it could put you in a fair amount of danger."

Rebecca considered this for a moment. "Professor Snape already told me that I was in danger as it was— because of my position in the school," she told him. "My being a muggleborn in Slytherin as well as being Harry Potter's friend hasn't gotten me… popularity with my peers, it seems."

"I'm delighted Severus has kept you informed, my dear," Dumbledore said with a nod of his head. "You are correct in that you are already in danger. If you do wish to help your friends, what we ask is that you become a spy for the Order."

Before she could stop herself, Rebecca asked, "Like Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore stared at her for a moment.

"He didn't tell me, sir," Rebecca said quickly. "I guessed. He never said one way or another, but I figured he was giving you information." She paused a moment. "I only just put two and two together."

Dumbledore blinked at her once, twice, and then smiled. "You are far cleverer than some give you credit for, Miss Felan," he told her. "But yes, in short, you would be like Severus, except you would act as our spy in the school."

"Yes," Rebecca said immediately. "I'll do it, Professor Dumbledore. I want to help."

He smiled at her again. "Then I must tell you that when you return home, you will find me waiting there, already speaking to your parents," he said. "You will be inducted into the Order this afternoon at our headquarters, which I will tell you about later today. Your training will begin as soon as possible."

"Of course, sir," Rebecca said.

"However, Miss Felan, there is one stipulation."

"Yes, sir?"

"You must keep this an absolute secret," Dumbledore said. "You will be sworn to this secrecy this afternoon at headquarters using the Unbreakable Vow. You may only speak of your spying to the people who are present at this meeting this afternoon at Headquarters and to no one else, unless we all decide otherwise. You must especially not tell any of your friends or the Weasleys." He paused. "Can you do this, Miss Felan?"

Rebecca bit her lower lip. "Lie to them?"

"Omitting a few facts is something I think Severus calls it," Dumbledore said wistfully.

Rebecca nodded. "It will help defeat Voldemort?"

"Potentially."

"And help my friends?"

"Most assuredly," Dumbledore said. "More importantly, you will be doing the Order a great favor."

Rebecca nodded slowly. "I promise I won't say anything to anyone, sir," she said. "I agree. I want to help."

"Thank you, Miss Felan," Dumbledore said. "I will see you in a few hours' time."

"Goodbye."

Rebecca turned, a bit dazed, and trotted hurriedly toward the platform. Then it struck her: what had she gotten herself into?

* * *

_The Induction, June 1995_

Rebecca's induction into the Order had fared well, despite Professor McGonagall shooting glares at the Headmaster throughout much of the ceremony. After Rebecca was inducted, Professor McGonagall left Headquarters, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place (Sirius Black's ancestral home), in quite a hurry. Rebecca had hoped she would stay for a while, but she seemed very cross with Professor Dumbledore. Once the older woman left, Rebecca looked to the Headmaster.

"Is Professor McGonagall mad at you for inducting me, sir?"

"Perceptive as usual, Miss Felan," Dumbledore replied amiably. "And yes, she is not quite as keen on the idea of a student being an Order member. However, she agreed that it was necessary for your safety, as well as others'."

"Hurmph!"

Alastor Moody, whom Rebecca had just met (as the Moody she had known in the school year that had just occurred had ended up not being the real Moody), made the sound that caused those still remaining at the table to look his way.

"I would say that you'd lost your mind, Albus, if you had not told me all that this girl has accomplished," Moody growled.

Rebecca noticed he was always growling, his voice was so gravelly. It reminded her of the Bloody Baron's voice, whenever he rarely spoke.

"Now that I look at her, she doesn't seem much," Moody added in a murmured tone.

Rebecca sat up straighter in her chair. If she were Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, she would have bristled at Moody. The old Auror didn't know what he was talking about.

"I assure you, _sir_, that I am quite capable," Rebecca said as evenly as she could manage.

Severus smirked, but hid it quickly. Moody was in for a surprise if he thought he could push his Slytherin around.

"We shall see, Miss Felan," Moody said, smiling to himself. "Once I'm allowed to put you through the ringer, so to speak, you might not be so sure of yourself then."

"And what, if I may ask, will you be training me in, Mr. Moody?" Rebecca asked with a raised eyebrow in perfect imitation of Professor Snape.

"Defense," Moody said quickly, leaning over the table. "I'll teach you how to deal with spells, curses, and hexes the _real_ bad guys might throw at you."

"Do not scare the girl, Alastor," Dumbledore tried to interject.

"I'm not afraid, Headmaster," Rebecca said. "I understand I might have to deal with Death Eaters—_real_ Death Eaters," she added immediately with a quick glance to Professor Snape.

She understood there to be some animosity between Moody and Professor Snape. It was clear the old Auror didn't trust her Potions Master.

"You will begin your training with Alastor once school has begun," Dumbledore explained. "Minerva has agreed to call you her assistant so that you may have some cover with your friends and House mates as to why you are always so busy."

Rebecca nodded her assent.

"In the meantime, Severus will be training you on your spying skills over the summer, to prepare you for your days at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

Rebecca looked to Professor Snape, whose expression was unreadable as usual.

"And when will my training begin, professor?" she asked the dark man.

"Tomorrow," Snape replied. "We will begin with the basics of spying before moving on to Occlumency lessons."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "I'll be taught Occlumency?"

"Of course, Miss Felan," Snape responded. "You must be able to defend yourself against the Dark Lord or any others who may wish to penetrate your mind."

She nodded.

Snape's eyes flicked to Dumbledore for a moment before looking back to the girl. She looked so small compared to the rest of the men sitting around the kitchen table with her. After all, she was only fifteen, and just barely so. He had worried how well she would take the induction ceremony, as it required a lot of concentration, oath-giving, and spell-weaving. She seemed to look none the worse for the wear, but she could just be putting up a strong front. He doubted it, but that thought did make him feel better about the whole thing, if ever so slightly.

"The Headmaster also wishes for me to teach you how to make the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus on the off chance that I am incapacitated," Snape continued. "He believes you to be one of the few who would have the concentration, aptitude and actual want to brew it."

"I'd be delighted to help Professor Lupin," Rebecca said, smiling and nodding in her former Defense professor's direction.

Sirius chuckled unmercifully. "Professor Lupin is it now, Remy?" he asked, elbowing Remus in the ribs.

Remus gave his friend a harsh look before looking back to the Slytherin girl.

"Please, Rebecca, call me Remus," he said. "I'm no longer your professor, nor do I think I will be any time soon, what with Ministry's new laws and everything." He gave a somewhat forced-looking smile.

"That will take some getting used to, but I'll do my best… Remus," Rebecca said.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "I believe we have everything squared away for tonight," he said, smiling at all of them. "I appreciate all of you coming here this evening to take part in this occasion. Miss Felan, Sirius will show you to your room. You must be tired after the ceremony."

Rebecca was tired. The amount of magic that had been used in the ceremony was astonishing. However, she shook her head.

"I'm not tired, Headmaster," she said. "Perhaps Sirius will show me about the house so I can find my way around later?"

She looked to the man who was Harry's godfather hopefully.

"Certainly," he said, nodding to her.

"Gentlemen, and Miss Felan, you are dismissed," Dumbledore said.

The chairs scraped lightly over the tile of the kitchen floor. Rebecca saw Professor Snape stop near Sirius to snarl at him. She was only across the table, and though it seemed Snape was trying to keep his voice low, she managed to hear him.

"Do _not_ try anything funny with my Slytherin, Black."

"Please, Snape, she's my godson's friend," Sirius growled back. "Besides, I'd be more worried about _you_ alone with her, seeing as who she resembles."

"Sirius," Remus said in a warning, whispered tone.

"Gentlemen," Dumbledore said, coming to the three men. He looked at each of them for a moment.

Professor Snape turned on his heel and exited the basement kitchen, his robes flowing behind him. Rebecca quickly pretended to look busy observing the kitchen, as she hadn't gotten a chance to look at it when she had come into the room. The ceremony had started as soon as she had gotten to Grimmauld Place and as soon as the formal introductions had been passed around.

She looked back to see Sirius watching her. They were the only ones left in the kitchen at this point.

"Who do I resemble?" Rebecca asked him, her eyes narrowing.

Sirius smirked. "Remus doesn't give you enough credit for your Slytherin attributes," he said.

"You sound as if you don't like the House."

"I shouldn't. My family didn't like that I wasn't put into it like the rest of them."

"Purebloods."

"You've done your homework."

"And you're evading my question," Rebecca said, smiling slightly.

"Allow me to do so some more, just until I'm sure Dumbledore has gone."

"Why would he be concerned with who I look like?"

"Patience is a virtue," Sirius said.

"And not a Slytherin quality." Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm quite glad that I've been able to meet you properly instead of the shabby one we had in the Shrieking Shack," Sirius continued. "You were probably terrified to be meeting a murderer."

Rebecca shrugged. "You didn't have a wand. How dangerous could you have been?"

"Remus recently told me you also knew that he was a werewolf early on that year, too. You weren't frightened of him."

"Should I have been? He was my professor."

There was a long moment of silence.

"You're not like the other Slytherins, are you?" Sirius asked.

"What was your first clue? That I was allowed into the Order?" Rebecca asked.

Sirius chuckled. "And you're friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

"The other Slytherins don't like me. I'm muggleborn."

"I've heard." He looked at her again, as if in a different light. "Do you know Lily Evans?"

"By name," Rebecca said. "She's Harry's mum. What does this have to do with anything?"

"You look just like her," Sirius said. "No one wants to say anything to you about it, but it makes me curious as to _why_ they don't want to. It's not as if there wasn't anyone here tonight who couldn't see the resemblance you hold to her."

Rebecca allowed her arms to uncross. "What's your point?"

"Well, the point is: you can't be related to her. You're muggleborn. Lily had one son, and that was Harry. I know, James was my best mate—I'd have known if he and Lils had had more than one kid. Lily had only one sister, and that's Petunia Evans, now known as Dursley."

"And she only has one son, Dudley," Rebecca finished for him. "I can assure you I'm not related to her. At least, as far as my knowledge goes. My parents aren't very magic-friendly."

"Well, my mother isn't very muggle-friendly," Sirius quipped with a smile.

"Your mother's still alive?" she asked. "I thought Professor Dumbledore told me that you were the remaining heir. That's why we're using your home."

"My mother's portrait is still here," Sirius clarified. "She used some sort of Permanent Sticking Charm on it before she died, I gather."

"Ah," Rebecca said. "I assume it's a magical portrait, so she's somewhat sentient?"

"Unfortunately."

They stared at one another for a moment before Sirius spoke again.

"Anyway, it would probably be best if you didn't tell anyone what I just told you."

"About my likeness to Harry's mum?"

"Yeah, that," Sirius said, moving toward the exit to the kitchen. "No one likes to talk about what happened to Lily and James much. They didn't want to say anything to you about her."

"So why did you?"

"Being in Azkaban for twelve years has made me quite a blunt person," Sirius said.

Rebecca could understand that. She nodded.

"Come on, I'll show you where you can put your things," Sirius said, motioning with his head toward the exit.

Rebecca followed Sirius up the stairs, tiptoeing past the portrait of his mother. He showed her to her room, which he explained she would end up sharing with Hermione when she and the others would arrive at some point the next week. He then started on a tour of the house.

Her particular interest lay in the library, which, though it was quite dusty, she was certain held many books that she would want to study at some point this summer. Maybe she would have time to between her training sessions.

The other room she found interesting was one that held Sirius' family tapestry in it. He explained to her each of the family members that had been burned off, including his own space on the portrait.

Rebecca was astonished to see how the pureblood families were so interlinked, and told him so.

"It's just like the way royalty did so and still does," she commented. "It's quite intriguing that people think so called 'pure' blood is better than taking a dip into the gene pool every once in a while."

Sirius laughed loudly. "You're like Hermione, but at least you can joke," he said.

Rebecca smiled back at him before looking to the tapestry once again. "Who was this person again, Sirius?"

The older man looked to the tapestry and considered it a moment. "That is Isla Black," he said. "She married a muggle by the name of Bob Hitchens. She was disowned because of that."

Rebecca paused a moment, considering the name. Hadn't she heard her father call her grandmother (her mother's mother) by Isla? She'd have to remember to ask her mother.

Suddenly, she yawned without being able to control it.

"Already acting like a spy," Sirius commented with a shaking of his head. "'Of course I'm not tired, professor,'" he added, mocking her playfully.

Rebecca smirked at him. "Are you sure you're an adult?"

"I never let myself be too serious," he said. "My name does enough of that for me, I'd think."

Rebecca groaned. "I hate puns."

Sirius chuckled. "Off to bed with you," he said, waving his hands at her in a shooing motion. "I'm sure the old bat will put you through quite a bit of training tomorrow."

"He's not a bat, he's my Head of House," Rebecca told him firmly.

"He's still a git."

"He has git-like qualities on occasion, I'll give you that," Rebecca said. "But I like Professor Snape."

Sirius grumbled. "I forget you're Slytherin with the way you act sometimes. You're ridiculously loyal, did you know that?"

"I think that's why the Headmaster thought I'd be the best for this job," Rebecca told him. "I'll see you in the morning, Sirius."

"Good night, Rebecca."

* * *

_Training Begins, June 1995_

The next morning, Professor Snape arrived bright and early. This wasn't a problem for Rebecca, who was still on school time. She was already awake and eating breakfast by the time her Head of House arrived. Rebecca was speaking with Sirius about the condition of Grimmauld Place, and also Kreacher, the house elf, who she had run into that morning on her way down to the kitchen.

"Kreacher hasn't done much upkeep over the years," Sirius drawled before taking a bite out of his toast. "And he's still loyal to my mother, despite my being his master, though I'd rather not be."

Rebecca considered him a moment before answering. "You know, Sirius, Kreacher doesn't seem like a pleasant thing from what I saw of him, but I don't think that you should dismiss him so easily. Maybe he just wants some kindness."

"That's what Dumbledore keeps telling me, but it's very difficult to be kind to Kreacher," Sirius explained. "He's a horrid elf with no soul."

"I think that's a terrible thing to say, even about a house elf as mean as he is," Rebecca muttered, stabbing at her eggs. "He's been by himself for a long time, Sirius. He could've gone mad over that time with loneliness. That might be why he's acting out like this."

Before Sirius could open his mouth to retort, Snape interrupted them. He had been watching from the staircase, shielded in the shadows. He saw how perceptive the girl was, how forward with her opinions. Her emotions he would have to work on. He knew that she was very smart, Granger-rivaling smart, and perhaps could even surpass the girl in a few classes. Her skills of observations he hadn't seen in a student in quite a long time. He reasoned that she had to have been overly watchful everywhere at school, concerned with being attacked or threatened.

"As riveting as this conversation is, I need Miss Felan to finish her breakfast quickly so that we may begin her training," Snape said, stepping onto the last few steps to reveal himself.

"Oh, good morning, Professor Snape," Rebecca said with a smile in the man's direction.

She definitely hadn't heard him enter the house nor had she seen him standing there. Clearly, Sirius hadn't either, and he didn't react nearly as well to her Potions Master's entrance.

"Snape, sneaking around as usual," Sirius said, his voice low.

"I seem to remember you did enough for the both of us some years back," Snape replied easily.

Rebecca scooped up another forkful of eggs before standing. Her chair scraped loudly across the floor and she chewed and swallowed her food rather quickly.

"Sirius, do you mind getting these for me? I think Professor Snape would like to start sooner rather than later," she said, giving Sirius her best smile to try and alleviate whatever situation was brewing. Prof—Remus—had mentioned that the Marauders (James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter) had never gotten along with Snape, and there was still some particular animosity between the two. But for what reason, he would never say.

"Of course, Rebecca," Sirius said, waving the girl off. He was very kind to her, just as he would be to any of Harry's friends. The girl had a personality that was hard to dislike, he had told himself the night before, following their conversation and walk through the house. She was someone he would have liked to have been friends with at school. She was, however, no Lily Evans, which he was at least glad of. The girl looked enough like his best mate's wife and didn't need to act like her to boot.

"Will you be allowed out for lunch?" Sirius asked, shooting a look at the other man in the room.

"I'm sure even Professor Snape needs a lunch break," Rebecca said quickly. "Thanks, Sirius."

She turned about to her Potions Master, who motioned into the living room. She went before him and waited for him to say something, anything, to her. Instead, he led her into the library, where he shut the door behind them.

"You may have a seat, Miss Felan," Snape told her. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. There was far too much dust in the room for his liking. "This part of the lesson is merely theoretical."

"But, sir, I'll need some parchment and a quill if I'm to be studying theory," Rebecca objected from in front of the couch. She hadn't sat down yet, as she would need to pull the dust cover from it.

Snape immediately looked to her, which shut her up. She knew that look after four years. That was the look that meant she was already trying his patience. Obviously being in close proximity to Sirius was not doing well for him.

"If you are to be a spy, Miss Felan, you must learn how to remember things without writing them down," he snapped at her. "Anything written down can be used against you. Is that clear?"

"Of course, sir."

"Sit, Miss Felan," Snape repeated.

Rebecca turned and carefully took up the dust cover from the sofa, hoping not to disturb too much dust as she did so. Some whirled around in the air for a bit, but settled after a while. She placed the dust cover next to the sofa and sat down, looking back at her professor.

He lectured her on the importance of a spy to always be watching without those around one knowing that one was watching. He gave few examples from his own spying duties, which she didn't expect in the first place. Instead, he gave her hypothetical situations for her to answer without much explanation first.

"If you were to be seated at the Gryffindor table, Miss Felan, as I've seen you do a number of times," Snape began with one such example, "and a group of Slytherins were to approach. Let us say that it is Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe, perhaps a few more. They begin to accost Mr. Potter and his friends. What do you do?"

"I try and help Harry, Ron, and Hermione without making the situation worse with Malfoy and the others," Rebecca said.

"For the role that you are trying to display, Miss Felan, I would say that you are not far off from where you should be," Snape said. "However, while you are doing all of this, how will you be able to relate this back at one of our meetings? Do you trust yourself to be pragmatic as opposed to biased?"

"Perhaps not as of yet, sir," Rebecca said.

"At least you have your honesty, Miss Felan," Snape said. He stopped his pacing before her. Rebecca was glad; it was starting to wear on her. "However, that response is why you must study pureblood ways. This library here will be a good start. I don't suppose Black will mind if you borrow a few books tonight for some light reading."

"What will learning about pureblood ways do for me, sir?"

"It will help you see your fellow House mates' views of things," he answered, strolling near the shelves to take a look. "You must know your enemies as well as you know your friends. I expect you to spend much more time inside your own common room from now on, now that I know where you've been spending it most nights."

Rebecca blushed. "Well, professor, the girls in my dorm aren't always exactly nice to me," she tried to explain. "They take my things sometimes and—"

"You cannot expect those who do not understand you to be _nice_ to you, Miss Felan," he said, turning back to her and quickly advancing upon her. "Remember why you are here: your life is possibly in danger every day because of your House mates, because of their families, because of the Dark Lord and what he believes. You are not here to make friends. In the business of spying, there are no such things as friends. There are only informants, allies, and enemies; nothing less, nothing more. You must remember how you put your life on the line for what you believe in, for what you said you believe in to Albus just yesterday."

"Professor," Rebecca began slowly, "if you're trying to scare me out of the position, I'm afraid you're a bit too late. I've been inducted into the Order for almost twelve hours now." She paused. "I know you once expressed your wish to protect me, sir, but I now have the opportunity, with your help and the Order's, to protect myself, to protect those that I care about and respect. I know what I'm getting into Professor Snape, just as you knew what you were getting into all those years ago."

"Miss Felan, you have no idea what I was, and am still, 'getting into' as you say," Snape said, nearly spitting out the last words.

He suddenly turned back to the shelves, and only then did Rebecca realize how close their proximity to one another had been. He had been angry, very angry, and she couldn't exactly understand why. His retreat to the bookshelves was somewhat of a relief and somewhat puzzling. This was the moment she realized that she was never going to have her Potions Master quite figured out.

About a minute later, Professor Snape had a rather thick pile of books sitting next to her on the couch. Most of them were on pureblood rituals, practices, and traditions, as well as family lineages. There was one, however, that was a book on the Dark Arts, one that she had never seen before, nor anything like it. She immediately reached for that one.

"I expect you to have all of these read by the end of the week, Miss Felan," Snape said. "Somehow, I don't foresee this being a problem for you and your ridiculous study habits."

He watched her reach for the Dark Arts book. Intriguing, he thought to himself. The girl had occasionally reminded him of himself at her age over the years, but especially now in particular. She had history books at her disposal, the beginnings of what would be the downfall of those who wished to see her dead, but what she was most interested in were the Dark Arts.

"That book is something most haven't had the chance to read, and many that wouldn't want that chance," he explained. "It has the arts of Occlumency and Legilimency in it, but also other, darker arts that I feel you must have at least a perfunctory understanding of. Blood Magic, Sacrificial Rituals, and other such things are just to name a few. These are some things that you might come across when we start studying the Death Eaters, all of whom you will be expected to identify by sight by the end of the summer."

"All of them, sir?" Rebecca asked, looking up from the book for a moment. She had been studying the cover and spine, intrigued by the font and gold-leafing. The book was clearly very old. Old books were the most fascinating, in her opinion.

"You will need to know who to be watchful of, Miss Felan," Snape answered her. "However, you are not to be so watchful of them that they would notice you. You must learn to blend in with those around you, with your surroundings, to be the proverbial fly on the wall in all settings." He paused and saw that she was staring at him with open wonder. He smirked. "Now, let us begin."

* * *

_The True Induction and More Training, July-August 1995_

It had been very hard to continue her studying after her friends arrived two weeks after she had. The first night had been terrible, as her friends (the Weasleys and Hermione, as Harry was not to arrive for a bit longer) had wanted to know when she had arrived (she'd lied and said earlier that day; McGonagall had come to fetch her) and how her summer at her parent's house had been (she'd had to make things up). At night, she continued her studying with Professor Snape when the rest of them were asleep. This definitely improved her stealth skills, her mentor had told her. Rebecca wasn't sure if he was making a joke or not; she was still unsure if the mostly surely man was capable of making jokes.

Sneaking around was also difficult with the rest of the Order members not knowing her position. Professor Snape told her that Dumbledore was planning on telling the rest of the members, to make things easier on her when they were all confined.

"Molly will have the biggest problem with it," Snape had said. "But she will get over it once she is reassured of your necessity, the danger you are in, and your skills. Have you studied that defense book I brought you yet?"

The rest of the Order was finally informed of Rebecca's induction the week after the Weasleys and Hermione had arrived. Mrs. Weasley had yelled a lot, and the others just stared at her. Kingsley Shacklebolt seemed particularly interested in her now.

"What have you been learning about, Miss Felan?" he asked her.

Rebecca had to swallow the lump in her throat. She didn't enjoy being the center of this much attention. Professor Snape was also watching her carefully.

"Well, Professor Snape has been teaching me how to be a good spy," she began. "So that when I go back to Hogwarts, I'll be able to see who is loyal to whom and to ascertain whether or not there are fence riders." As she spoke, she became more confident. "If there are some, they will feel comfortable talking to me because I am the odd one out, you could say."

She paused and looked over to her mentor, who nodded approvingly at her, before she continued.

"Professor Snape has also been teaching me Occlumency."

Mr. Weasley appeared shocked and looked to Snape. "You've been teaching her Occlumency, Severus?"

"She's only fifteen, for Merlin's sake!" Mrs. Weasley said for the umpteenth time that night.

"Miss Felan is doing very well in her study of _all_ materials," Snape said evenly to the room at large. "She will make a good spy as well as a skilled Occlumens, though she has only been studying it for two weeks. She is also versed in many pureblood traditions, and Dark Arts, which she will continue to study to know her enemies better. She also knows the name and face of every Death Eater."

"What are you going to learn next, Miss Felan?" Shacklebolt asked her again.

"When I'm at school, Professor McGonagall is going to call me her assistant," Rebecca began to explain. "Mr. Moody will then teach me defense. I believe Professor Snape is supposed to help supervise—"

"And teach you how to duel properly," Moody interjected.

Snape nodded his agreement. Dumbledore had to plead with a few of the Order members to calm down, especially Mrs. Weasley. They were all then sworn to secrecy.

It was all very tiring, and things got worse when Harry finally arrived a month after the summer had begun (another two weeks after the Weasleys and Hermione had arrived). Obviously, he was very angry that his friends had been here much longer than he. His first night at Grimmauld Place consisted of a meeting with many of the Order members and Rebecca feeling awkward when Harry and the others were being informed of things that she already knew. Mrs. Weasley didn't know how much exactly she knew, either, and shooed them all off to bed soon afterward.

The next few days were spent purging the house of Black. That proved to hold many interesting debacles in and of itself. Rebecca was forced to study at night, taking the room by herself so Ginny and Hermione could share a room as they had wanted to in the first place. She was glad that she hardly needed sleep. She felt thankful for her insomnia for once.

The night before Harry was supposed to go on trial (for casting a Patronus Charm in front of his muggle cousin because they were being attacked by dementors), Rebecca was sitting up downstairs instead of in her room, reading over more Dark Arts and the defenses against them. Suddenly, the fireplace burst into green flames. Rebecca got out her wand and pointed it at the fireplace, but quickly lowered it when she saw Dumbledore's head.

"Rebecca, I'm glad to have found you," Dumbledore's head said. "I need you to come through to my office immediately."

"What for, sir?" Rebecca asked, standing and walking toward the fireplace. She grabbed a bit of Floo powder and waited for his answer.

"I'm afraid it's Severus," Dumbledore said.

"Professor Snape?" Rebecca asked. "Headmaster, is he all right?"

"Severus was summoned tonight," Dumbledore said quickly. "Please come through, Rebecca, your schooling in mediwitchery begins now."

Rebecca obeyed. As soon as the Headmaster's head disappeared from the flames, she threw in the Floo powder and told it to take her to his office. When she arrived, she saw what appeared to be a transfigured cot holding Professor Snape. The Potions Master seemed to be unconscious, but he twitched every few seconds. Rebecca looked to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore handed Rebecca a few vials taken from his robes. "You will need to coax Severus into swallowing these," he told her. "Obviously, without the use of magic. He has had the Cruciatus cast on him for an extended length of time tonight, and the use of magic upon a sufferer generally makes things worse. Madam Pomfrey is currently out of the country, or she would be the most likely candidate to help him. As it stands, I have been unable to get Severus to take the potions."

Rebecca looked from the Headmaster to Professor Snape, lying helplessly on the cot before her and twitching every so often. This was just the beginning effects of the Cruciatus Curse. The second stage was convulsions, followed by the possibility of a full-blown seizure. She looked at the potions.

"Draught of Peace, a Strengthening Solution, and a Sleeping Potion?" Rebecca asked. She looked to Professor Snape and began to think how long in-between he should receive the potions. After some quick calculations, she began to try and figure out how to administer the Draught of Peace.

When she reached for the Potions Master, he recoiled from her touch. Another side effect of the Cruciatus Curse was sensitivity to touch, as well as all the other senses. Rebecca sighed.

"Professor, you're safe now," she whispered to him. "I need you to take these before your symptoms get worse."

She reached for him again, but the man twitched violently.

"Use his name, Rebecca," Dumbledore whispered from behind her. "It worked slightly when I was trying to get him to take the potions."

Rebecca wasn't so sure about using her professor's name. She managed to hold onto his chin, but the man jerked to one side. She looked to his face and saw that his face was twisted in pain. She knew he also wasn't going to trust anything anyone was trying to shove down his throat. That was the rule that he had taught her: don't trust anything you are given.

"Severus Snape, I'm just trying to give you the Draught of Peace," she said, placing the vial near enough to his nose so he could smell it. "It's not poison, it's going to help you."

The Potions Master visibly calmed, though the twitching was slowly getting worse. Rebecca saw her professor's eyes open slightly to look at her. He then opened his mouth. Rebecca, surprised, held the vial to his lips and tipped it back slowly. Professor Snape shut his eyes again.

Rebecca took a step back and handed Dumbledore the empty vial. She then looked to him, puzzled.

"I thought he was unconscious," she said quietly.

"I think Severus believed that he was under some sort of test from Tom," Dumbledore whispered. "He kept muttering to himself when he first arrived, and that is what I can surmise from what he was saying. Because of this, he would not accept what I was offering to him. I did not even think of allowing him to smell it. Well done, Rebecca."

The Headmaster gave her a smile, and she offered a small one back. A minute had passed, and Professor Snape's tremors had gone down significantly. She stepped toward him again with another potion.

"This time it's just a Strengthening Solution, Severus," Rebecca said, again holding the vial near his nose so he could smell it. He didn't open his mouth. "Severus, I need you to stay with me for just a few more minutes. Don't give into the curse."

She reached for his chin again, and when her fingers touched it, he opened his mouth again, keeping his eyes closed. She tipped this vial back as well and waited for him to swallow before stepping back. After another minute, the solution appeared to be working, as the twitches were no more, and he was now looking at her.

Rebecca stepped forward one last time, holding up the last vial where he could see it.

"This is the Sleeping Potion, Severus," she said, holding it near his nose.

He even managed to nod before opening his mouth for her for the final time. Rebecca administered the potion before she began to move away from him. His hand reached out suddenly and took her wrist in a rather strong hold for someone in his condition. Dumbledore stepped forward as Snape began to pull Rebecca toward him.

Rebecca wasn't frightened. There wasn't much that he would be able to do to her right now, not with Dumbledore just behind her, and certainly not while he was injured.

Soon, Professor Snape had her just before his face. His eyes were half-closed, the Sleeping Potion beginning to take effect on him.

"Lily," she heard Professor Snape whisper. "Lily… I'm so sorry."

This stunned Rebecca, but she had to say something. The way he was looking, Professor Snape wasn't going to allow himself to fall asleep until she responded to him. She reached up and patted his hand gently.

"It's all right, Severus," she said to him. "Go to sleep now. You need to heal. It's all right."

With that, he let go of her hand and closed his eyes. Rebecca stepped away from him and looked to Dumbledore, who looked a number of different emotions at once.

"Rebecca—"

"I don't need to know why he said that," she interrupted the Headmaster, holding out the last empty vial for him to take back. He did so, though rather slowly. "Though I find the idea of Professor Snape mistaking me for someone else a bit concerning, as you said yourself, sir, he was hallucinating. He thought he was somewhere else, somewhere that wasn't safe. If my being Lily helped him feel safe, it doesn't bother me any."

"Rebecca, do you know who Lily is?" Dumbledore asked carefully.

"She was Harry's mum," Rebecca replied. "I guess they were friends back at Hogwarts, she and Professor Snape?"

"They were."

Rebecca nodded. "In any case, I hope I helped, Headmaster," she said. "I should probably get back to Grimmauld Place before one of the others see that I'm gone." She paused a moment, glancing at her professor before looking at the Headmaster. "It might be better if he thinks it was Lily who helped him instead of me. I don't think he likes to be thought of as weak."

"You're very astute in your observations of Severus, Rebecca," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "And I thank you. Perhaps when we return to Hogwarts, we can have Madam Pomfrey give you more proper training in the mediwitchery arts."

"That would be fine, sir," Rebecca said with a nod.

"I bid you good night, then, Rebecca, and thank you again," Dumbledore said.

"Good night, Headmaster."

* * *

_Occlumency, August 1995_

The next day, Professor Dumbledore entered Grimmauld Place after Harry's hearing had taken place. Rebecca didn't notice him until he came into the library to speak with her. Before she could say anything to him, or even put down her book that she was studying from, Dumbledore began to speak.

"You'll be glad to know, Rebecca, that Harry's trial went very well," he said. "He was cleared of all charges."

"That _is_ very good," Rebecca said, marking the page she was on with her hand so she could shut the book. She gave the Headmaster her undivided attention.

"I also wanted to inform you of what occurred after you left last night," Dumbledore continued.

"Oh," Rebecca said, somewhat surprised.

"Severus believes that he was hallucinating throughout the entirety of the event," the Headmaster said. "He thinks that he saw Lily last night, and did not know that you were there at all. I allowed him to believe this, as you requested, because I thought it would be best for him and his morale. I told him that it was really I who managed to get him to take the necessary potions, and that I manifested as Lily because of the stress that he was under."

"I see."

"I wished to know if you were training in Occlumency tonight."

"I don't believe it's on the schedule, sir," Rebecca answered. "We're supposed to be working on the Wolfsbane Potion tonight."

"That is good," Dumbledore said. "I wouldn't want him to stumble upon the memory by accident."

"He would be embarrassed," Rebecca said, nodding.

"To say the least, Rebecca."

"Thank you for warning me, sir," Rebecca said, bowing her head slightly to him.

"I must take my leave before Harry returns," Dumbledore said, turning to leave. "And also so Severus does not see me speaking with you and suspect anything."

"Until next time, then, sir," Rebecca said.

"Yes, Rebecca, until next time."

The Headmaster left, and Rebecca was left to her thoughts. Why was he avoiding Harry? He seemed to have been doing that, staying away from Grimmauld Place when he knew her friend was going to be in, and only staying long enough for the meetings, which were all at night. She would probably soon find out why, and then it would be just another thing that would hurt to keep a secret from everyone.

Later, she was back in the library after everyone had gone to sleep. She was supposed to await the Potions Master here before they ascended to the attic to continue her study of the Wolfsbane Potion. She was stuck on a particularly hard ceremony in the Dark Arts book and was trying to think each step through without much success.

She must have been thinking about this for a long time, as she didn't even notice Professor Snape enter the room.

"Thinking as usual, Miss Felan?"

She actually jumped a bit before turning to face him.

"You startled me, sir," she said, a hand over her heart.

"A great spy you will make if I scare you, Miss Felan."

She thought she saw a smirk, but the look was gone so quickly from his face she couldn't tell.

"Are you laughing at me, sir?" she asked, giving him a half-amused look.

"At your expense, I'm afraid," he replied, with something as close to a laugh she'd ever heard from him in all her years of knowing him.

Well, the Headmaster was right: Professor Snape was certainly in a better mood tonight than she'd ever seen him in before.

"Lest we continue to waste time bantering, we should make our way to the attic," he said, turning from the room.

She followed him quickly.

Rebecca had been attentive to Professor Snape's instruction on the theory behind the Wolfsbane Potion. Tonight, she was actually going to start the process to make it. As she was setting up the cauldron, she was suddenly turned around by her Potions Master to face him.

Immediate fear at having done something wrong coursed through her. She didn't ask what was wrong, though, as the look on his face was calm.

"_Legilimens_!" he said.

She steeled herself as best she could with the half-second notice he'd given her, as she'd started doing whenever anyone made sudden eye contact with her. She couldn't hold him for more than thirty seconds. He'd taken her by surprise, and she had only been studying Occlumency for a little over a month. Why would he spring this on her so quickly?

He was ripping through her recent memories, not expecting to find anything interesting there, chiding her out loud as he did so.

"You must always be ready for an attack, Miss Felan," he was saying. Rebecca tried to block him out, as she needed to concentrate in order to perform her Occlumency.

"You are not concentrating hard enough!"

She was trying. She was trying very, very hard. He was getting closer and closer to her memories of last night. She tried to seal off that part of her mind, but her panic was breaking her concentration.

"Miss Felan, concentrate!"

She was gritting her teeth with the effort, and she'd broken out into a sweat. He'd never stayed in her head for more than a minute at a time, so he wouldn't weaken her too much. Now he was going on two minutes, and Rebecca could hardly stand with her effort at trying to keep him out.

Going on three minutes. It felt like an eternity.

Maybe his meeting the night before had made him decide to spring this impromptu lesson upon her.

Oh no. He'd found the memory.

She was being forced to watch what had occurred the night before in her mind again. After it was finished, she felt Professor Snape withdraw from her mind. When she opened her eyes, she found she was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. She looked up at her mentor, and the look he was giving her made her sink to the floor. She rested her head against the wall and continued to watch him, preparing herself for an explosion of emotion from her professor.

It never came. He merely looked at her, hardly breathing from the little effort he'd put into penetrating her mind.

"Miss Felan, I apologize for being so forceful with you tonight," he said suddenly and quickly. "You were right in thinking that my meeting with the Dark Lord last night has made me hasty."

Rebecca stayed where she was, still trying to catch her breath as she looked up at her mentor. She managed to nod.

"Can you stand, Miss Felan?"

Before waiting for her answer, he hoisted her up by her arms quickly. She was able to stand, of course.

"Continue what you were doing as if I'm not here," he said, turning his back to her so he could cross the room. "You'll need to be able to brew this without assistance, and soon, on the off chance that I am incapacitated."

Rebecca did as she was told, focusing on the directions she had written on parchment in front of her. She didn't have the energy to do much more than that. Her body felt like it was on auto-pilot. She didn't want to think about why he hadn't yelled at her for using his given name, or for going along with Dumbledore's plan to lie to him about what had really happened the night before.

Before she knew it, she was already cutting up the aconite, also known as wolfsbane, the main ingredient to the potion. Her hand slipped, and the sharpened knife she was holding slid easily into the thumb of her left hand. She yelped because of the suddenness of the pain, jerking her hand toward her to assess the damage.

She couldn't see past the amount of blood there was. Her thumb was throbbing as her head had for the last however many minutes it had been. She'd gotten blood all over the aconite, ruining the plant, tainting her work surface. Rebecca felt her knees weakening, and then she didn't see anything anymore.

Severus caught his student before she fell. She had been doing fairly well, working methodically, before she had cut her thumb open nearly all the way to the bone. She had been unsteady after the… incident, and now he was cursing his own carelessness at forcing her to begin the potion when she hadn't recovered fully.

He had her sitting up in a chair so he could mend her thumb. She wouldn't have a scar with how quickly he'd gotten to it. He had to wake her up, though. It wouldn't do well if one of her friends caught him trying to put her to bed, no matter how good his intentions were.

He stared at the passed out Felan, trying to figure the best spell, if any, to use on her to awaken her. He thought back to what he'd seen in her mind, what she had been trying so hard, and fruitlessly, to protect from him. That was exactly what she'd been doing. Her mind was an open book every time he'd been able to break through her Occlumency. He could feel every feeling she had, sense the things she was, and hear any stray thoughts that crossed the forefront of her mind.

Severus was shocked to learn that he'd called her Lily to her face, and she had responded exactly as he'd needed her to, despite not knowing what he was talking about.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Miss Felan," he said after a long pause. "Miss Felan, I need you to wake up this instant."

He didn't think it would work, but he wasn't too keen on using magic on her to awaken her. It might just hurt her more. So, he was very surprised when she began to stir.

Rebecca opened her eyes to see Professor Snape kneeling in front of her, watching her intently. After blinking at him for a few moments, she remembered what had happened.

"Professor, I'm so sorry!" she said, gasping. "I ruined the aconite!"

He sighed heavily and looked at her. "Miss Felan, keep your insufferable mouth shut for once."

She shut her mouth immediately.

"I've worked you too hard for tonight," he said slowly, evenly. "You need to go to bed now. I will clean up here." He paused a moment. "None of this is your fault, remember that."

"But, sir…"

"Miss Felan, you are dismissed," he said finally. "Get some sleep tonight, and perhaps tomorrow you will be more prepared for your Occlumency lesson."

Rebecca watched as he began to clean up the potion area before leaving the attic.


	5. Fifth Year

**Author's Note:** Hello, readers! You're in for an _extremely_ long chapter this time, as this is the one I've been working on the most. It's also, as a result, gone through many revisions, additions, and subtractions to make it as perfect as I possibly can. In fact, I may find more things wrong with it as time goes on a re-post it again and again after editing it on my own Word processor, because I'm crazy and can never be satisfied with things.

Anyhoo, this is the chapter where the rating starts to go up, but it's nothing too serious. It's pretty easy to tell when it's coming up, as my labels are fairly self-explanatory. This is also where some more aspects into Snape and Rebecca's relationship come into play (but don't expect romance for at least three more chapters, which will all be as equally long if not longer than this one, so it's going to take a while). I hope you all enjoy reading this and please leave me any comments for this chapter or any others, as I'm going back through and editing little things in the previous chapters to my liking as well.

Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter Five: Fifth Year**

_Training at Hogwarts, Early to late-September 1995_

The first training session, held in Professor McGonagall's classroom (with wards set up), had been an interesting ordeal. Rebecca still remembered her first and subsequent meetings with Moody from the summer and wasn't showing him the respect that most of the other Order members did. Professor Snape was attending the training to oversee things. He stayed with Professor McGonagall on the edge of the room, watching and not saying anything.

Both watching professors were concerned, but in their own way. Minerva thought the girl was hindering her learning by not trusting Alastor. Severus thought that she needed to learn to keep her emotions and body language in check. He made a note to bring it up to her once Moody was finished with her.

"Albus tells me you were in the Dueling Club that was set up in your second year," Moody said.

"Yes, I was," Rebecca replied, her arms crossed over her chest.

"And how did that go?"

"Not so well, I'm afraid," Severus interrupted. "That was the year of Lockhart."

Moody cleared his throat. "Never mind, then," he said.

"I do know how to duel," Rebecca told him.

Severus raised an eyebrow. He had never seen the girl duel before. Minerva looked to him quickly, thinking that perhaps he had taught her the basics over the summer. He saw the look she was giving him and silently shook his head.

"Do you now?" Moody asked. "And where did you learn that?"

"I've read about them," Rebecca said.

Severus closed his eyes and only just stopped himself from placing his face in his hands.

"Harry's also practiced with me a few times," she said. "It was to help him work off steam during the Tri-Wizard Tournament last term."

"I see," Moody said, drawing his wand. "Perhaps you would be willing to show me your technique, Miss Felan?"

"Alastor!" Minerva called. "Don't you think this is too soon?"

"If I'm to train her, Minerva, I must know where she stands defensively," Moody argued.

"She has always been at the top of the class in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Minerva said quickly. "Severus, tell Alastor, she's in your House."

"Minerva, you must allow Alastor to train her as he sees fit," Severus replied calmly.

Rebecca looked to Professor McGonagall. What was she concerned for? It wasn't as though this would be a duel to the death. Moody just wanted to test her.

Minerva shot the young Slytherin an anxious glance before looking back to Moody. "Very well, Alastor."

"Miss Felan, if you would?" Moody asked, gesturing toward her wand.

Rebecca took her wand quickly from her robes and brandished it. They bowed to one another, as was protocol, before Rebecca took a simple defensive stance that she had read about in a book.

Severus watched his Slytherin carefully, reading her every move. She seemed to have complete control over her body.

"I wonder exactly _how many_ dueling sessions she and Potter participated in last term," he muttered.

"My thoughts as well, Severus," Minerva whispered back.

Neither of the combatants moved for many moments. Finally, Moody struck.

"_Stupefy_!"

He was fast, too fast for Rebecca to react to. The Stunning Spell hit her square in the chest and knocked her over. She came to a minute later to see Moody standing over her.

"You've got to be faster than that, Miss Felan," he said, stepping back as she stood up. "Don't you know your basic Shield Charm?"

"Of course I know it," Rebecca grumbled.

"Well try using it," Moody ordered, walking back to his place in the center of the room. "And remember, Miss Felan, constant vigilance!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes.

They took their stances again, neither of them moving a muscle.

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Protego_!"

The red light hit the shield just a second after it formed.

"Better!" Moody shouted. "_Relashio_!"

The desk next to Rebecca exploded, but she had already leapt out of the way. She'd heard the beginning of the spell Moody was casting and didn't want to be anywhere near her original spot. As soon as she got her center of gravity back into balance, she aimed her wand at him.

"_Silencio_!" she cried.

Moody blocked the spell deftly, sending another Stunning Spell back her way. Rebecca countered it with her own Shield Charm once again.

The two went on like this for a few minutes, Rebecca trying to Stun, Hex, or Silence Moody, and the Auror blocking all of her spells. He was impressed with how many the girl knew how to use and how strong they were, but she was not strong enough to defeat him.

"_Serpensortia_!" Rebecca called desperately.

A black snake shot out of her wand and immediately began to slither toward Moody, who was momentarily distracted by it. While his wand was pointed toward the snake, Rebecca made her move.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Moody's wand flew from his hand and glided toward Rebecca's outstretched one. She caught it triumphantly, disbelieving. Moody had already let off a spell that was burning the snake, and Rebecca put the flames out. The old Auror was staring at her.

"Well done, Miss Felan," he said finally as she began walking toward him. "I did not think to protect myself from a maneuver such as that one."

He looked at her in a new light, then, and Rebecca felt a sudden change in his demeanor as she handed him back his wand.

"I believe you're teachable," Moody said, a twinkle coming into the eye that was still his and not magically enhanced. "It's time to begin your lessons on more defensive spells. Once you've mastered those, and I don't believe it should take you too long, we'll move on to the Patronus Charm and other useful spells to know when fighting against Death Eaters. Soon, you'll be beating me in our duels faster." He chuckled.

"Thank you, Mr. Moody," Rebecca said.

"I think that for the sake of our lessons together, you should call me Alastor," Moody said with a thoughtful expression.

"Thank you, Alastor," Rebecca said, nodding her appreciation. "Call me Rebecca."

After the first lesson, things went smoothly between the old Auror and the young Slytherin. Minerva had never seen Alastor be outwardly kind to anyone in all her years, but he seemed to take a liking to Rebecca and how quickly and efficiently she learned. They wouldn't work on a spell for but an hour before Rebecca had the general gist and they would move on to something else for her to learn. The girl even made Alastor laugh. It was a strange sight, but Minerva was relieved that she didn't need to oversee their lessons together anymore. (Albus had asked her to for fear of Alastor doing something he would later regret.)

Severus was impressed with the skill and ease Miss Felan showed while practicing with Moody. As good as an Auror the older wizard was, he wasn't as good as he used to be when he was younger. Severus would need to show his Slytherin how fast an actual duel would take place. Yes, Moody could still hold his own with a Death Eater, but that was because his Shield Charms were ridiculously refined and strong. Without them, his lack of speed would be his downfall, Severus had noted.

That is why he stepped in to begin training Miss Felan once Moody had taught her the spells he wished for her to learn that night. At first, Severus went easy on her. After the first few duels, the warm-ups, he would grow closer toward his normal speed. He watched as she struggled to keep up with him, and eventually he would always hit her with one of his spells. He would revive her or treat her wound, if there was one, and they would continue. He could see, after a week of their dueling, Rebecca was beginning to get upset that she could not beat him.

He finally suggested that, on top of her bi-weekly Occlumency, he begin teaching her non-verbal spells.

"They require a great deal of concentration," he told her, "but they may become invaluable to you in a duel."

Of course, the girl agreed readily. This would help Severus out, as well, as she would be required to practice on her own, giving him time to grade. Now that he was teaching Miss Felan, his personal time and grading and planning time was being cut in half.

"Next week, I will also begin to teach you how to fight hand-to-hand," Severus explained to Miss Felan. "There are some Death Eaters, or other supporters of the Dark Lord, who prefer this method of fighting. You'll possibly also find this useful the next time one of your fellow Slytherins attempts to attack you in the corridors."

He saw that Rebecca's features did not falter when he said this. She had been practicing.

"I didn't see that it was fit to inform you, sir," she said quietly, hoping that Professor McGonagall did not hear. She was only yards away at her desk, but not facing them.

"There is no shame in asking for aid, Miss Felan," Severus told her for what sounded like the thousandth time. Was it, really, or was he exaggerating? It certainly felt that this year she was being attacked more and more. Perhaps the Slytherins whose parents were supporters of the Dark Lord were feeling braver and braver as the days stretched on. "You must remember that you may retaliate only in self-defense, and never give away so much to have them wonder where you've learned it from."

"Certainly, sir," Rebecca said with a curt nod.

The next week showed that Rebecca picked up on the non-verbal spells very easily. Her hand-to-hand combat left something to be desired, however. She looked positively uncomfortable without her wand in her hand, thus throwing her fighting stances off terribly. Even when ordering her to imagine that they were dueling, she showed very little progress. He knew that this frustrated her, so he would only have hand-to-hand combat training for the first thirty minutes of their sessions before switching to magical duels. Despite her frustrations, the hand-to-hand combat seemed to allow her to relieve her stress, he noticed. She became more prepared for their magical dueling after they had warmed up with their sparring. She also told him she enjoyed it in her own way; though it was frustrating, it was a challenge, and she did like challenges.

In this she was improving, and with bounding steps ever since he had begun to teach her non-verbal spells. She seemed to be able to think and process the duel faster, and was able to propel his spells directly back to him at increasing speeds. She had actually managed to hit him with a spell once, and that is when he knew she was prepared should a Death Eater come upon her.

* * *

_Occlumency Learned, late September 1995_

Miss Felan had held out for a good two minutes under his less-than-gentle use of Legilimency. Finally, he stopped their connection and allowed her to catch her breath. He had been imitating the way the Dark Lord would penetrate her mind, so she would know what it felt like, so she could be prepared. He and Albus had been coddling her when it came to that, so the last few training sessions had become increasingly more difficult. Severus had used Legilimency on her as soon as she had entered the room, when her defenses would be low. She had passed and had even showed him some images of her life that were normal. She had successfully kept him from the important places they wouldn't want the Dark Lord knowing about.

"Congratulations, Miss Felan," he told her once she re-opened her eyes. "I will tentatively declare you a full Occlumens this evening."

She smiled very suddenly. It was more of a grin, he was certain. Unable to help himself, he smirked back at her. He could allow her to be happy about this; there was little else to be happy about in these times.

"I promise I'll keep practicing with you, sir, and Professor Dumbledore," she said quickly.

"I think that could be arranged, though perhaps we should go to once a week," Severus told her.

"That won't be a problem for me," Rebecca said.

"I imagine it won't," he replied. "I can't imagine how you're getting all of your school work done on top of everything Albus wants you to do, Miss Felan. Your essays are as usual, however."

She nodded. "Thank you, sir," she said. She knew that was about as close to a compliment as she was ever going to get. "It's really not too difficult."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"All right, so I'm not sleeping much some nights," Rebecca admitted. "It's worth it, though."

Severus' lips tightened into a thin line. He wanted to tell her that it wouldn't be worth it, her spying. It was a terrible idea and would always be, especially if the Dark Lord were to ever find out. She would be killed immediately, but tortured first, of course, to see what they could find out about the Order. Then, he would be blamed for not knowing about her entry into the Order, which would only spell disaster for his position with the Dark Lord.

"Professor, could I ask a favor of you, perhaps?" she was suddenly asking him.

He furrowed his brows. "It depends upon the request, but it cannot hurt you to ask," he said slowly.

"Would you begin to teach me Legilimency?"

Severus was nearly flustered for a moment, but he pushed the confusion away. "Absolutely not!" he said, rage replacing the confusion of why she would make such a request.

"But, sir, I figured that because I had done so well with Occlumency, perhaps Legilimency wouldn't be too much of a step."

"Miss Felan, I will _not_ teach you Legilimency and that is final," Severus said forcefully, glaring at her until she backed away. "You already know too much for someone your age. You do not need another practical Dark Arts lesson."

Rebecca was thoroughly beaten on the subject. She lowered her head and didn't look at her Potions Master. She could practically feel the anger emanating from him.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly. "I apologize for bringing it up."

"You're dismissed, Miss Felan," he growled at her.

Rebecca left quickly for her own dormitory.

* * *

_The Attack, early November 1995_

Rebecca left the Great Hall soon after Dumbledore departed from dinner. He had summoned her to speak with him about something important, and she was fairly certain she knew what it was. She made her way up quickly to his office and gave the gargoyle there the password before entering. When she got into his actual office, he was already seated behind his desk, Fawkes perched behind him, cleaning himself.

"Come in, Rebecca," he said, his blue eyes twinkling at her. "I'm glad you could take time out of your schedule to see me. I know you've been busy as of late."

She nodded. "I have no training tonight, Headmaster," she said. "Alastor and Professor Snape thought it would be best to give me a night off." She gave him a smile.

"In order to be more expedient, Rebecca, I give you my permission to call me Albus when we are conversing amongst ourselves or the Order," Dumbledore said.

"I'll try my best to remember, Albus," Rebecca said, a little stunned.

"I'm sure you'll do fine."

He sat upright in his high-backed chair and Fawkes stirred to attention from behind him.

"The reason I asked you here tonight, Rebecca, is to talk to you about Dumbledore's Army," he said with a smile. She was going to retort, but he held up a hand. "I know that Harry was… thrust into the position of power, but I also know that you are a member of this organization."

"That is correct, sir," Rebecca said.

He gave her a look.

"Albus," she said, correcting herself immediately.

He nodded, then continued. "What have you covered in this illegal group?" he asked, still smiling. He was obviously pleased that the students had taken matters into their own hands against Umbridge.

"We've had just a couple of meetings so far, Albus," Rebecca said, forcing his name from her lips. "We practiced _Expelliarmus_ and other simple defensive and offensive spells like the Stunning Charm and _Protego_. We'll be doing the Impediment Jinx next."

Dumbledore nodded, folding his hands on top of each other and leaning back in his chair. "I fear the time has come, Rebecca, that you must out your spy duties to your friends," he said quietly.

Rebecca sighed, relieved. "That would be most helpful, si— Albus. I wouldn't be able to lie to them about why I can produce all of these spells on a first attempt. They already suspect something's up, as I haven't had as much trouble as the others."

"You may tell only Harry, Hermione, and Ronald," Dumbledore clarified. "They can make your excuses to the others. Harry can tell them you worked with him on proper techniques during off-Army hours," he added, smirking.

"I wouldn't dream of telling any others," Rebecca said, nodding. "Thank you, Albus, this will be a great weight off me."

"I understand, my dear," Dumbledore said, nodding, looking suddenly grim. He paused for a long time before saying, "I will ask you to inform Severus of the news."

"Me, Albus?" Rebecca asked. "But why not you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Severus, I believe, will take the news more readily from you," he said. "He will only argue with me. I cannot take his anger tonight, as Professor Umbridge is giving me quite the headache as of late."

"I know how you feel," Rebecca replied grimly. "Her detentions are terrible. Harry will have scars by the end of this year."

Dumbledore nodded, holding a hand up to ask Rebecca to stop along that line, which she did. "I am thankful that you have informed me of her methods of so-called detention, but there is nothing I can do, unfortunately," he said. "Cornelius has made her untouchable to even me. If Harry needs, he will come to me. In the meantime, keep your head down where Dolores Umbridge is concerned, Rebecca, as I fear that she is not completely the Minister's."

"Sir?"

He looked at her.

"Albus," she said with a sigh. "Do you mean that you think she is, at least partially, Tom Riddle's?"

"It is merely a guess," Dumbledore said with a shrug. "But my guesses are usually quite good."

Rebecca nodded.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to make your way to the Dungeons and speak with Severus, Rebecca, I would appreciate your haste," Dumbledore continued. "The curfew is drawing close already, and you won't have much time to get back to your common room if Severus decides to argue with you."

"Yes, Albus," Rebecca said, nodding to him as she stood.

"Before you go, Rebecca, I would just like to commend you once again at protecting those three students already," Dumbledore said to her, making her turn back to him. "They are all in Order safe houses now."

Rebecca smiled. "Good," she said. "Thank you, Albus."

"It is I who should be thanking you, Rebecca," Albus said gratefully. "Not even Severus, I think, would have suspected those particular Slytherins, and especially the Gryffindor, as wanting to run from their families."

Rebecca smiled, recalling the night that Adrian Pucey and Tracey Davis had come to her in the common room after everyone was asleep. They requested her help, thinking that she would at least help them in getting to see Dumbledore because she was closer to him than all the other Slytherins because of the relationship she had with Harry Potter. She, of course, agreed, and was glad to hear that they had been safely hidden. Their families, they had told her, were great supporters of Tom Riddle (which is what she had begun calling Voldemort out of habit, as she heard Albus call him as such so much), but they didn't want to be a part of what he stood for. Michael Karume, the Gryffindor Albus had referenced, had been a complete surprise to her, too. He had found her in the corridor after dinner one night and requested her help, as well, citing the same reasons as Pucey and Davis. All of them were safe because of her.

"Thank you anyway for telling me they're safe, Albus," she said. "It makes everything seem worthwhile."

Albus nodded. "Until next time, Rebecca."

Rebecca nodded, then made her way down to the Dungeons. She was there faster than she thought she'd be, having been lost in her own thoughts on her trip downward. She was standing before her Potions Master's office, where she knew he would be at this time of night, probably trying to grade essays or other homework. She knocked.

"Enter," she heard his voice call to her.

She opened the door and closed it quickly behind her. When she turned, he had not glanced up from the parchment he was marking on with what she knew to be his red ink.

"_Muffliato_," she muttered, waving her wand.

That made him look up, his quill stopping in mid-word. "I imagine Albus has sent you down here to tell me something, Miss Felan?" he asked, his voice using the drawling tone to attempt to show her he was disinterested. Rebecca knew better by now.

"Yes, sir, he did," she said, taking a seat in the chair that sat on the other side of his desk.

Severus put down his quill and pushed the essays he was grading slightly off to one side.

"I imagine it's not good news since you've cast that particular charm," he continued.

He was trying to masque the anger that was already building. The way his Slytherin was looking at him, though, made it clear she was prepared for his possible onslaught.

"Albus has just informed me that now is the proper time to inform Harry, Hermione, and Ron of my spying for the Order," she said. "Now that I am a member of Dumbledore's Army, the group that they're leading to make up for our… lackluster learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, it's going to be difficult to keep my magical and dueling knowledge from them."

Severus sat and listened to her, though the anger built up inside of him. He had to maintain control.

"I believe this to be a terrible idea, Miss Felan," he said.

"As I'm sure Albus suspected, hence why he wanted me to tell you," she interjected quickly.

"You are _not_ to interrupt me!" he snapped.

Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest to await the rest of his speech.

"It is already a safety hazard that the entirety of the Order knows of your role as a spy. However, no one can confirm to anyone outside of the Order that you are what you are because of the Fidelius Charm that they were required to make directly after hearing of your spying duties," he said quickly and quietly. "I imagine Albus will not make any of your friends go through the same precautions."

"I trust them with my life," Rebecca said just as quietly, imitating his deadly tone.

Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "What was the first rule of spying I taught you, Miss Felan?"

"That I have no friends," she repeated back quietly. "That I should trust no one."

"Exactly," Severus said, standing and beginning to pace. "To trust would be to weaken yourself, your defenses."

"You trust Albus," Rebecca said. "I would also like to think that you trust me to a certain extent, sir, seeing as you continue to put your life at risk to protect me from Tom."

He glared at her. "I would not be so bold as to say such things, Miss Felan," he said. He hated that she was right, even if only partially so, he told himself. "You cannot tell your so-called _friends_ of your work with the Order."

"I really don't think that it's your place to tell me what I can and cannot do on this level, Professor Snape," she said. "Albus is still the leader of the Order, and I am to listen to him when he gives me a direct order."

Severus gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The girl was infuriating.

"I will not stand for placing your safety as well as my own in the hands of three other fifteen-year-old Gryffindors!" he said, his voice rising in intensity.

"I was not going to tell them of my work with you, other than you training me," she said, standing. She did not want to feel so small compared to his standing form. Though he was still across the desk from her, his stance and his apparent anger were going to be too much for her if she remained seated. Otherwise, she tried to keep her features as neutral as possible. "They already know that you are a spy."

"And they do not trust me as they do you," he countered. "If they know that I have been training you, do you think your precious Gryffindors will still hold you in such regard?"

"I think you underestimate them, sir, and I would appreciate it if you would not speak of my friends in such a manner."

"You know that I speak the truth, Miss Felan, when I say these things," he said, taking a few steps toward her. "Gryffindors have always been told not to trust Slytherins—Harry Potter is no different from his father. He will only use you as long as you are useful to him, and then he will discard you. The Weasley boy is nothing but a side-kick who uses you and Granger for your brains and company. If it weren't for you, Potter, and Granger, he would be a nobody. As for Granger, she is not your equal no matter how much you may think her to be. She is a bookworm, only good for reciting theoretical knowledge; in a duel she would be useless. Against Death Eaters, she could do nothing."

Rebecca was seething, but she managed to keep herself in check. "What you say is unfounded and utterly incorrect. Harry is loyal to his friends and so is Ron. Hermione can perform spells better than most students at this school. All of them have offered me friendship, and I will not throw it away just because you feel as though you don't have any." She paused. "I am done with this conversation, Professor Snape," she said quietly, her voice shaking in her effort to control it from showing her anger. She turned to walk out of the office, but stopped and looked back to him over her shoulder. "Albus always said that Harry was more like his mother, anyway."

Severus shook, his hand upon his wand the entire time she spoke. She had no idea what she was speaking of. She was foolish and young and completely blinded by the Gryffindors that she should never have befriended. He managed to not draw his wand on her until her last words to him. His wand came out in a flash.

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Protego_!" Rebecca called, her wand out as soon as she saw him draw his. Her Protective Charm was up, fast enough to catch the spell her Potions Master had hurled at her. It would stay up as long as she needed it to.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Rebecca began to back out of the room. Finally, she made it there and left, slamming the door behind her.

Severus sunk into his chair. He had just attacked one of his own students. What was more, it was the student that was supposed to be under his utmost protection at all times. She was also his student that resembled Lily. He dropped his wand onto his desk and put his face in his hands. He sat there and thought for a very, very long time.

Rebecca couldn't return to the common room in the state that she was in. She would attract too much attention. So, she chose to walk about the lake, knowing there was another half-hour until curfew. She wouldn't be missed; she wasn't supposed to meet with anyone tonight.

She thought about everything that had occurred tonight as she rounded the other side of the lake, the one closest to the Forbidden Forest. This line of thought was not helping her to calm down, so she thought of how best to tell Harry, Ron and Hermione of her role as a spy for the Order. Deep in thought about how the conversation would go, she did not hear the Disillusioned wizard sneak up behind her.

When she finally heard the snap of a twig give her pursuer away, he had already Silenced her. Her wand was forcibly taken from her, then. She tried to fight, but could not see her assailant. She fought and kicked, but it seemed to do no damage if it made its mark; most of the time, she missed.

She was being dragged into the Forest, her arms being held behind her back by what felt to be the large, strong grip of a male. When they were perhaps twenty yards into the Forest, he lifted his Disillusionment Charm. Rebecca felt her face fall as she stared up into the cold eyes of Fenrir Greyback, who Albus had gotten news as aiding Tom.

"Hello, little girl," Greyback growled at her, stroking the side of her face. She turned her head to bite him, but he pulled his hand away quickly, chuckling. "A feisty one I got here, huh?" He grinned. "I like 'em feisty."

Before she could mouth to him any of the number of obscenities she was thinking, he had cast a Body Bind on her and she could no longer move. He lifted her up, making sure her body was rubbing up against his own. Rebecca wanted to be sick, but now was not the time for that.

"The Dark Lord will be glad you finally came out of your castle, Rebecca Felan," Greyback continued, his hand trailing down her body. "Maybe he'll even let me have yeh for a bit once he's done with you." He gave her a flash of his teeth.

All Rebecca could do was glare at him. He laughed again as he brought out a black bag from inside his cloak.

"I gotta put this over your face now, but don't worry," he said, unfolding the bag and beginning to put it over her head, "I'll take good care of yeh."

The bag blocked her vision, and as soon as that was done, Rebecca felt completely powerless. She tried not to panic, but couldn't help but feel it rising within her. Did Tom suspect her already of spying? How could he?

"You do a good job of hiding it, but I can smell your fear, little Mudblood," Greyback continued, holding her tightly against his body. "I like that you're afraid. It means your blood is pumping. It excites me."

She could feel exactly how it was exciting to him, could feel _it_ pressed up against her thigh as he continued to hold her body against his. He took in a deep breath, sniffing her. She wanted to curse him into oblivion.

They Disapparated suddenly, and Rebecca felt the familiar and uncomfortable tug in her abdomen as they did so. When they finally stopped, she felt cold. Something light was falling against her exposed flesh, which would then turn that part of her skin even colder. It was snowing, but beyond that she didn't know where they were. She tried to focus on that as she felt Greyback continue to press her against his body unnecessarily, his hands roaming. Rebecca felt her breasts being squeezed, hard enough that it actually hurt. His hands traveled over her hips and thighs, dipping in between. She couldn't squirm, couldn't call out, couldn't do anything.

"You're pretty for a Mudblood," he growled to her as he marched them forward.

She couldn't retort, no matter how much she wanted to.

After what seemed an eternity, Greyback stopped and put her down.

"Very good, Fenrir," she heard a quiet voice hiss. "Now remove the bag from her head and hand over her wand. I wish to see her."

The bag was pulled forcibly off of Rebecca's head, causing her hair to fly up and fall into her face. She couldn't see and couldn't move.

"_Finite Incantatem_," she heard what she was now sure was Tom's voice say.

Rebecca stood as soon as the spell hit her, throwing her head back so her hair wouldn't impede her vision. She took a step back from Tom out of reflex when he came into her sight. He was holding her wand. He had performed magic with her wand. The thought alone was terrifying. She backed into what felt like a brick wall, but knew better. She jumped forward again, gasping, just as Greyback was reaching for her. She turned to glare at him.

Tom chuckled from behind her, a sound that gave her goose bumps.

"Enough, Fenrir, leave her to me," he said. "She is powerless without this." Rebecca imagined him waving her wand to clarify his statement. "You will be rewarded greatly for bringing her alive to me."

Greyback grinned at her, showing his teeth, before backing away from her. That was when Rebecca noticed they weren't alone. There was Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange, Walden Macnair, and Peter Pettigrew, which she found to be a bit of a surprise. The latter of the group was staring at her as if he'd seen a ghost.

"You are the first to turn their back on me," she heard Tom's voice from behind her.

She turned to face him, now. He looked at her, considering her. Her heart was beating fast—she could feel it in her throat, in every vein of her body. Her adrenaline pumped the cold from her limbs as she stared into the red, snake-like eyes of Voldemort.

_Stay calm_, she told herself. _Just like you practiced._

"I extend my greetings to you, Rebecca Felan," Voldemort said, a fowl grin upon his face.

"Greetings, Tom Riddle," Rebecca replied instantly, her voice low. He was close enough to hear, but the others were far enough that they could not.

Voldemort stared at her for a moment, and if he had had an eyebrow, it would have been raised.

"No one has called me that in a very long time," he said calmly, though she could see his anger bubbling just under the surface. "Where did you hear it?"

"From Harry," she said. "Dumbledore calls you that, he says."

Voldemort sneered. "Dumbledore shows me no respect, and neither do you."

"Why should I? You are neither a Lord, nor is your name something that should be feared. You call me by my given name, I call you by yours."

"_You_ are _not_ my equal, Mudblood," Voldemort told her, his voice low and deadly. "_Crucio_."

Rebecca felt her limbs give out as the curse hit her. She screamed at first, but stopped herself after a moment. The Death Eaters, who had laughed at her cry, were now silent, staring at her as she writhed about on the cold ground. Why did she not cry out?

The pain stopped after a few more seconds, and Rebecca caught her breath before trying to stand. She felt terrified, but would not show it. He had performed an Unforgiveable with her wand, now. She felt the anger at that knowledge burning within her.

"Why have you brought me here?" she all but demanded of Voldemort. She was now on her knees, trying her hardest to stand. The pain in her joints made it nearly impossible.

"I have sources who tell me that you might be a spy for Dumbledore, for the Order," Voldemort told her easily, choosing to be amused with her for now. The Mudblood showed courage, something not often attributed to their race.

Rebecca was able to scoff. "I'd say you have bad sources."

"Three students have disappeared from Hogwarts school within the last two months," Voldemort said, staring directly at her. "Two Slytherins and a Gryffindor. Their families are sympathetic to my cause. They have no clue where their children have gone. My sources understand that the Order is hiding them. My sources know nothing of the children's whereabouts." He paused. "Children of my Death Eaters do not disappear without aid, and I know of no one in the castle who would give it to them."

"Like Dumbledore would trust someone like me with that sort of position," Rebecca said with a sneer. "Why would he trust a Slytherin when he has so many Gryffindors at his disposal, those he wouldn't have to wonder about their loyalties?"

"Ah, but that is exactly it," Voldemort said, approaching her slowly, twirling her wand in his hand as he did so. He stopped three feet from her. "You are exactly the type that Dumbledore would trust. You are a Mudblood in the Slytherin House— my House— you are friends with Harry Potter and his friends, you are hated and scorned by your peers, and you have intelligence and power that surpasses many of those who were born to wizarding parents. You are alone in your House, and you wish to prove yourself. You are a Slytherin at heart, but no one sees that because of your birth."

Voldemort knew all of these things because he had seen the girl in Severus' mind. He had wanted information on her, and Severus had provided him with as much as he knew. The girl intrigued him, despite the fact of her inferior birth. He watched as she struggled to stand, and then finally managed to do so. She had a spirit that was not easily broken, which was good; he enjoyed a challenge.

"I believe you are giving me praise," Rebecca said, looking at him directly.

"I am telling you what Dumbledore sees and thinks of you," he said. "He will use you."

"He is not using me," Rebecca said. "I am not a part of the Order."

"So you know of it, then?" Voldemort asked, closing the distance between them.

Rebecca kept her mouth shut. She had _allowed_ that to slip. No friend of Harry Potter's would _not_ know of the Order. She would lead him on, distract him. Her knees were shaking slightly under her weight and the effort it was taking her to stand straight.

"Fine, I have other methods of getting what I want," Voldemort said, snapping his fingers. Pettigrew scampered over to him and took Rebecca's wand, backing off as soon as he had it in his grasp. Voldemort stepped toward the girl, grasping her head in both of his hands. Rebecca glared at him resolutely, though inside she was screaming. "_Legilimens_!"

Rebecca felt him penetrating her mind, but her Occlumency skills, which he was not expecting, were hard at work without his notice. She showed him what she wanted him to see: her at headquarters, though the memories she showed him were harmless, her and the others trying to listen in on the meetings and failing. Another memory was someone mentioning that they were at headquarters. Harry talking to her about the Order, and how he wanted to join, she lamenting how she was not able to join either...

He pulled from her mind violently and released her from his grasp at the same time. Rebecca fell to the ground again, but could not stand up. Most of her energy was spent trying to protect what she knew. She heaved in and out giant breaths of air and tried to remain calm.

"She knows nothing!" Voldemort shouted, turning to his Death Eaters. They took a few steps back from their Lord, fearing his outrage. Voldemort's features suddenly brightened as he turned back to face her. "But Dumbledore regards her highly, that we do know." He suddenly smiled, and Rebecca couldn't help but shiver at the look. It was evil. "You have shown yourself to have spirit, little Mudblood. But I have deemed you not a spy. You would not do well as a spy."

"I already told you I wasn't a _spy_," she said, practically spitting out the words.

"Yes, but one can never be too careful," Voldemort said. "I will allow you to return to your Hogwarts school, but I want you to give Dumbledore a message for me."

"What is it, then?" Rebecca asked, furrowing her brow at him.

Voldemort gave her that smile again, and it made Rebecca's blood run cold. He nodded his head at Bellatrix. The woman stepped forward, cackling as she did so. She took the girl's face in her hand and squeezed, pulling it up to face her.

"You know my cousins," she said quietly. "Make sure to say hello for me when you see them. Won't they be surprised to see their poor little Mudblood friend all scarred up and broken?" She laughed.

Rebecca raised her arm and hit the witch. Bellatrix, not expecting it from the girl, was slapped hard in the face. She fell back with a cry. "You hurt Neville's parents," she growled at the witch. "You're sick, you're evil!"

Bellatrix cackled again. Rebecca stared at her. The woman was crazy from her years in Azkaban, Rebecca knew, but didn't think she could be that strange. Bellatrix came and smacked the girl back, sending her back to the ground. She leaned over Rebecca again. "I want them to see you, to see what I've done to you. You can tell them it was me. Poor little Nymphadora... poor Sirius… they'll be so angry when they see you. Them and the others."

Rebecca tried to think of a retort, but then Bellatrix drew out a knife. Rebecca saw it had the Black symbol on it. It was cursed, she knew, would make her bleed more than normal, would poison her. She set her features as the witch approached her.

The Lestrange brothers moved to hold Rebecca, but Bellatrix waved them off.

"The Mudblood's too weak to defend herself," she said, holding her knife in place. She grabbed Rebecca's left forearm and lifted it closer to her own face. Bellatrix grinned. "Let's send the old coot a message he'll never forget."

And then she began carving into Rebecca's skin. Rebecca felt the magic of the blade touch her own, felt it seeking her. Then, her nerves felt like they were on fire. After a few moments, she felt the poison begin to course through her veins.

After Bellatrix was done carving the first Dark Mark into the Mudblood, she sneered at the girl lying on the ground, practically motionless. She wanted her to writhe, to scream in her pain, to beg for mercy. The Mudblood was doing none of that. She heard Pettigrew sniveling in the background, and she rounded upon him.

"Be quiet while I'm working, rat!" she yelled at him.

Pettigrew scurried away from her; Bellatrix continued, moving on to the next part of the Mudblood's body that she wished to carry their message.

Peter approached the Dark Lord, his head bowed in respect. The Dark Lord was standing only feet from where Bellatrix was working. He held out his hand.

"The Mudblood's wand, Peter," he said.

Peter nodded and handed it to him. The Dark Lord turned it over and over in his hands, examining it. Peter swallowed a large lump that had developed in his throat before trying to speak. He could not look at the girl being tortured.

"My Lord, if I could make but the humblest of requests of you?" he said quietly, his voice wavering.

"Yes, Peter, what is it that you would ask of me?" the Dark Lord asked, turning his attention to his servant. He seemed genuinely interested, Peter thought, but it could be his Lord disguising his anger.

"My Lord, the Mudblood resembles someone from our past a great deal," Peter said, trying to keep his voice steady. He knew he was failing.

The Dark Lord quickly turned his attention back to the girl. He looked at her face, which looked impassive despite the pain that was being inflicted upon her. He saw the red hair and the green eyes, the pale skin… and he began to laugh.

Peter stared at his Lord, knowing that he had figured it out.

"Peter, you mean to tell me that you cannot stomach the torture of this Mudblood because of her resemblance to your Lily Potter?" he asked, derision clear in his voice. "It is her ghost come back to haunt you, is it, Peter? Or is it perhaps the retaliation of your old friends because of what is being done to her that is causing you fear?"

"My Lord… all I ask is that you not hand her over to Greyback," Peter said, his hands now trembling for fear of being punished at his boldness.

"Once a coward, always a coward, Peter," the Dark Lord said, though the way he spoke it made it sound almost fond. "I will spare her Greyback's ministrations, Peter. I find your sudden conscience rather charming at the moment."

"My—my Lord! I thank you," Peter said, bowing down.

The Dark Lord watched as Bellatrix inflicted the last Mark upon their Mudblood messenger. He would need to call for Snape within a few days' time, to question him further about this girl and his relationship to her, especially now seeing her resemblance to Lily Potter. Perhaps she could be useful to them. She had a certain pride, strength, and lack of obedience that intrigued him.

"That is enough, Bella," he said, approaching the now still Mudblood girl. Bellatrix remained where she was.

The Dark Lord replaced the Mudblood's wand back within her robes and straightened them. Bellatrix had made a mess of them, cutting them open in order to get to the places where she wanted to make the Marks. He stared at the girl for a long moment before turning to face Peter.

"Peter," he said, smiling at his servant, "in exchange for my favor, you will return the girl where she will be discovered. You are not to be seen. Return as soon as you are done."

"Y-yes, my Lord," Peter said.

He immediately took up the girl, but the look on his face was painful. He Disapparated, and the Dark Lord laughed.

Severus had been looking for Felan for nearly an hour. At curfew, he had gone to see which of his Slytherins were in the common room, as he did every night since the beginning of this new term. All were there except for her, a strange occurrence. That was when his blood began to race. He sent a message via a portrait to Albus that she was missing. Soon, all of the professors (sans Umbridge) were looking for her quietly and unobtrusively.

He decided to check the grounds, using a Disillusionment Charm in case he was to run into that toad. He was near a very familiar spot by the lake, near a tree, when he heard a groan of pain. Severus quickly turned in that direction, his heart now pounding against his chest. He stepped around a large bush to discover Rebecca Felan in the fetal position, groaning. Her robes were nearly all shreds, though they looked too straightened. She could not have done such a thing. He went to her, kneeling beside her, trying to assess her injuries.

That was when he saw the first Mark on her left forearm. He gasped, and she looked around. He was amazed she was even still conscious. He removed his charm, and she saw him.

"Professor Snape," she said, her voice weak.

"Do not speak, Miss Felan, I must get you to the Infirmary," he said quickly, beginning to pick her up. "I will Disillusion the both of us so Umbridge does not see us," he told her before doing so. He began running with her. She was not very heavy.

"Sir, it was a Black knife," she said quietly. "Poisoned me."

"That's very good, Miss Felan," Severus said, exasperated. He was to the staircase now with no sight of anyone else. "Conserve your energy to fight the poison."

"Saw… Tom…"

Severus felt his blood run cold. He wished he could see her face at the moment, but the thought of discovery was worse than the need he felt to look at her.

"I… kept my secrets."

"You've done very well, Miss Felan," Severus said, not caring that he was praising her. "You may tell me later. You may tell me everything later, but please conserve your energy."

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice weak.

Rebecca's head was bumping softly against her Potions Master's chest. She didn't understand why he was carrying her when he could just as easily have levitated her to the Infirmary. Perhaps he was less likely to run her into things, to jar her, while carrying her. That was it, she decided. Her mind began going blank, but she stopped. She mustn't allow herself to give into unconsciousness, lest the poison take a full hold on her. She tried to take in a deep breath, but it came out shallow and ragged.

Severus wished again that he could see her as he reached the third floor. "Miss Felan?"

"Fine, sir," she managed.

Her voice sounded weaker.

"We're almost there, Miss Felan," he said. He was going to kill Albus, but only after he and Poppy had cured her.

Suddenly, he saw Sir Cadogen running through a nearby portrait. He went over to it, following the knight.

"Sir Cadogen, inform the Headmaster that I am taking Miss Felan to the Infirmary," he said quickly. "I will need Filius there, as well."

Sir Cadogen stopped. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes, it's me, I don't have time to stop, just do as I say!" Severus snapped at him, making his way to the next staircase.

He felt that he was running on pure adrenaline. He should have levitated her, he thought, but that would have exposed them to Umbridge if they were to run into her.

Finally, he saw the Infirmary, Poppy standing outside of it. He undid his Disillusion Charm, and she gasped when she saw them.

"Severus!" she said as he went past her into the room. She turned and watched as he put a very battered-looking Rebecca Felan on the nearest bed. "What has happened to her?"

"_Accio Antidote Kit_," Severus muttered, knowing he hadn't put any spells to keep the kit in his office. It would reach them in a few minutes' time. "She's been poisoned, Poppy, and the Dark Mark has been carved into her skin at least once that I can see, though I imagine it will appear more times on her body once we've removed her robes." He swallowed the lump in his throat.

He heard a whooshing noise and reached up to grab his Antidote Kit. He set it on the bed next to his Slytherin and rifled through it a minute.

"What did the knife look like, Miss Felan?" he asked quickly.

Poppy ran off to retrieve some of her salves and other potions and bandages that she would need. She nearly ran into Albus and Filius as they entered the room and shut the door behind them.

"Place wards up on the door, if you please, Filius," Dumbledore told the Charms professor in a low voice. "We do not want visitors."

Filius nodded and did as he was asked as the Headmaster approached the bed that Rebecca was lying on. He stopped only a few feet from her bedside, unable to approach her any further. The sight that he beheld was too bloodied, too worn-looking to be the vibrant Rebecca Felan that they all knew.

"It was… about a five inch blade," Rebecca whispered, watching as Professor Snape went through his antidotes. "Made of silver, I think. The hilt was made of… ebony. The Black emblem was on it. I think it was emblazoned in another dark color, might have been green once…"

"That will do, Miss Felan," Severus said quickly, extracting the antidote he was certain would work. "That particular knife you saw was infused with a poison developed from Acromantula venom." He unstopped the vial and leaned forward to administer it to his student. "Drink this, Miss Felan, it will stop the poison from spreading further."

Rebecca held her head up as much as she could as Professor Snape tipped it the rest of the way. The antidote felt cool going down her throat. Her limbs began to relax. Professor Snape removed the vial from her lips.

"The poison acts upon the body's nervous system first, rendering the drinker motionless for the most part," he continued, removing his kit from the bed. He was talking to calm himself down, to keep from reaching to the Headmaster, now standing next to him, and strangling the old man. "It then goes on to destroy those nerves, then the muscles, and finally, the brain."

Poppy returned with the things that she needed. "Allow me to handle the rest of her wounds, Severus," she said quickly.

The Headmaster stepped back, still staring at the young Slytherin on the bed in horror. Severus nodded his assent to Poppy and walked across the room to where Filius stood, guarding the door, it seemed. Albus followed them.

Poppy assessed Rebecca quickly. "We'll need to remove your robes, dear, so that I can see the extent of the damage," she said. "Once we've got your wounds dressed, I'll have Severus determine whether or not you'll need the potion to rebuild some of your nerves and muscles." She brought over a screen and placed it between the waiting wizards and Miss Felan.

Rebecca nodded absently as Poppy began removing her robes. The mediwitch gasped, and Rebecca shut her eyes, not wanting to see what she already knew was there.

Poppy soon got a hold of herself, taking the bottle of dittany and beginning to sprinkle the essence over the girl's wounds. Rebecca flinched as the new skin attempted to stretch and form over the wounds.

"Oh, dear," Poppy said. Rebecca opened her eyes, found the Dark Mark that was now burning on her left forearm. "It appears the knife was enchanted to scar, dear. I'm sorry."

Rebecca let her head drop back to the pillow. "It doesn't matter," she said quietly.

Poppy looked at the girl sadly before moving on to her four other wounds, all in the shape of the Dark Mark at different places on her body. There was one on the back of her neck, as well as one at the base of her spine. There was another on her sternum, and the final one carved into her right thigh. Poppy sighed as the wounds only just closed up. The scars appeared red and irritated, looking as though if they were touched in the slightest, they would begin bleeding again.

"This will take a few days to heal, Miss Felan," she said, beginning to clean the blood from the girl's body.

Rebecca didn't respond.

Poppy finished cleaning the girl up in silence, then conjured up some robes for her so she could sit up and address the Headmaster and the other two professors who were waiting for her. She placed a hand over the girl's, but she drew back immediately at her touch.

"Sorry," Rebecca whispered, looking away from the mediwitch.

"It's quite all right, dear," Poppy said, nodding. She rolled away the screen. "You may speak with her now, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded, and he, Severus, and Filius approached her cautiously. Filius made a tiny squeaking sound at the sight of her. She was paler than usual, looked gaunt from her loss of blood, and her eyes had large, black circles underneath them. Severus asked Poppy for some Blood Replenishing Potion, which the mediwitch went to retrieve from her stores.

"She has scars upon her that must be hidden, Filius," Severus said before anyone else could speak. "The students, and especially Umbridge, must not know what happened to her."

Filius nodded. "Of course," he said. "I will begin researching right now. I should know something by tomorrow. Perhaps a modified Disillusion Charm?" he asked himself, lowering his voice. He was using it as an excuse to not look at his student. Finally, he sighed, looking up to her.

"Feel better, Miss Felan," the small man told her. "I will be back tomorrow with a charm for you to hide those scars."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick," Rebecca replied quietly, barely looking at the man.

"Thank you, Filius," Dumbledore repeated. "If you wouldn't mind, Severus and I need to have a few words with Miss Felan before the night is over."

Filius nodded and quickly left the Infirmary. Dumbledore took a seat beside her bed, Severus choosing to stand slightly behind him.

"What happened to you, Rebecca?" Dumbledore asked.

"Greyback caught me," she said, not looking at the Headmaster. "He took me to see Tom. He said he had sources that informed him I might be a spy for the Order, that I was the reason those students disappeared."

Dumbledore went rigid. Severus remained seemingly calm on the outside. His hand tightened its grip on his upper arm every few seconds. If he didn't stop soon, his nails would begin to draw blood, even through his thick robes.

"Perhaps it would be better if you just showed me," Dumbledore said.

"No, it wouldn't," Rebecca replied quickly, meeting his eyes.

Albus saw the pain, the unshed tears, in her gaze. He nodded.

"I didn't show him respect," Rebecca continued. "I called him Tom Riddle to his face, would not scream when he used the Cruciatus Curse on me."

Severus swore under his breath. Poppy chose that moment to appear and looked at him. Both Albus and Rebecca looked at him. She had never heard her Potions Master swear before. Severus sent Poppy back to retrieve more potions.

"Continue, Miss Felan," Dumbledore urged quietly.

"Tom finally used his Legilimency on me," she said. "I showed him things one would expect to find in a normal fifth year's head. Well, a normal fifth year's head who's a friend of Harry Potter. I showed him I knew of the Order, had been to Headquarters, had talked about it, but I was not a part of it. He believed me."

"Very good work, Rebecca," Albus replied, astonished.

"He was angry that I wasn't the spy he was looking for," Rebecca said. "He had Bellatrix use the knife on me in order to give you a message, Albus."

The Headmaster stared at the girl. He had gotten the message very loudly and clearly. He opened his mouth to say something, but Severus interrupted.

"Who returned you to that particular spot?" Severus asked suddenly. It had been that spot where the Marauders had tormented him, the time he had called Lily a Mudblood.

"Peter Pettigrew," Rebecca hissed. "I heard him begging Tom not to allow Greyback to have me. Tom thought Pettigrew was afraid I was…" She looked at her Potions Master, saw his expression, and changed what she was going to say. "He agreed, but only if Pettigrew was the one who would take me back."

Severus understood what she was leaving out. Rebecca's resemblance to Lily had been what saved her from Greyback, in a way, because Pettigrew was too much of a coward to watch her be tortured again.

"Greyback didn't touch you, Rebecca?" Albus asked.

"No," Rebecca said quickly. "No, he didn't."

She lied to them. She lied to her mentor and Headmaster. She didn't want to talk about her experience anymore.

Albus nodded, looking at the girl. It was clear there was something more she was not telling them, but he did not wish to press it, not tonight.

Severus watched her as she spoke. Her quick response— her adamancy— it gave her away. She was lying to them. Greyback had touched her, of that he was certain. He would kill the wolf if he ever got a chance.

"My dear, you were very brave this evening," Albus said, reaching to put a hand on her shoulder. Rebecca moved quickly from his touch, then clenched her teeth and grunted. The sudden movement had broken open the scar on her sternum. The blood was staining the robe Madam Pomfrey had given her.

Albus stared at Rebecca, who curled upon herself. She was trembling, the first stage of the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse.

"Severus will provide you with the potions that you need now, Rebecca," Albus said, standing. "I will be by tomorrow morning to see how you're feeling then. Perhaps we will have your friends visit you after dinner if you're up to it."

She nodded, watching as the blood began to spread further across the robe.

"Good night, Rebecca," Albus said, turning from her.

He stopped next to Severus, as the Potions Master had grabbed the older wizard by the shoulder. "We will talk later, Albus," Severus growled at him.

Dumbledore nodded and Severus let him go. Poppy returned with the potions and handed them to Severus.

"Oh, dear, you'll need another robe," Poppy said as she looked at Rebecca, conjuring one. "Administer her potions and tell me if she needs the ones for her nerves and muscles, Severus."

Severus nodded, approaching Rebecca again. This time, he was able to hand Rebecca her potions that she needed. She took the Blood Replenishing Potion and examined it, looking at it and sniffing it before putting it to her lips and swallowing it. Severus nodded at her actions, though Poppy looked a bit perplexed.

He then gave her the potions that would ease her nerves as well as the effects of the Cruciatus, so as not to open up her wounds again. He turned around so Poppy could sprinkle more dittany on the wound on her sternum and give her the new, clean robe. He looked to the mediwitch as she went to pass him with the bloodied robe.

"I will stay with her tonight, Poppy," Severus told Poppy evenly.

"Severus, she must get some rest—"

"Poppy, when have I ever slept after being in the Dark Lord's presence?" he asked.

The mediwitch was quiet. She knew Severus was right.

"It will be easier if I am here, if she needs to talk," Severus said quietly.

Poppy nodded. "I will just be in my quarters if you need anything," she said, patting Severus' shoulder as she passed him. "Good night, Miss Felan."

The girl did not respond, but continued staring at the window that was just in front of her bed. Severus then took the seat that Albus had vacated just a few minutes ago.

"You're going to stay here with me, sir?" she asked quietly, not looking at him.

"Just for tonight, Miss Felan," he replied.

"You don't have to."

"No."

"Then why are you?"

"Because I do not sleep after I have encountered the Dark Lord. It was always easier if someone was with me, though I never admitted it," Severus said. It was personal and revealing, and he hated saying it, especially to one of his students. But the girl looked very nearly broken. If her spirit broke, everything she had been through would all be for naught.

She didn't respond.

"We will say that you were attacked by the Acromantula that are in the Forest while you were walking this evening," he continued, knowing she was not going to say anything to him at least for a while. "It will go along with your being poisoned by their venom and why you look… as you do."

He looked her over again. She was still huddled upon herself, as if making herself smaller would help things. He was so angry it took everything in him not to tremble with his rage. He was angry at Albus for tricking the girl into becoming a spy. He was angry at the Dark Lord for torturing a child. He was angry at Potter for befriending her when he wasn't meant to. He was angry at himself the most, though. If he hadn't argued with her, would she have gone so far away from the school? Would she have been taken? He was supposed to protect her, but she had walked right into harm's way because of him.

"Then at least some part of the scars will need to be left visible," she said. "Dittany only works on scarring if it is applied immediately after the cut is inflicted. Given the time it took to find me again, it wouldn't make sense to hide the entire scar."

Severus looked at her oddly. How could she think of such information when she looked to be in such a state of shock?

"I think, Miss Felan, with your aptitude, you can say that you had Professor Flitwick help you find a charm to disguise the scars," he said carefully. "If there are those who wish to see the scars, you can tell them you don't show them to anyone. No one would dare defy you."

She nodded. "I suppose the truth is easier to turn into a lie than creating a completely fabricated one," she said, as if to herself.

There was a long pause between the two of them. The Potions Master looked at her, feeling genuine concern for someone for the first time in a very long time. He thought that this wouldn't be the last time, if the Dark Lord was willing to turn the war onto children.

"Miss Felan?" Severus asked. She finally looked to him. He had never seen someone who appeared so defeated, who looked so dejected. It nearly made him lose his composure. "It _is_ all right to cry."

She looked away from him again quickly, feeling the tears begin to try and flow. She held them back.

"I don't think many people have cried after encountering Tom," she said, angry at herself for nearly giving in to the tears.

Severus paused, clenching his hands into fists. "Nearly every time," he told her, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked to him, saw him sitting there watching her, his expression impassive as usual. His eyes gave him away. He was telling the truth.

She finally felt the tears falling. Once they had started, they were very hard to stop. She felt his presence beside her bed remain unmoving, even when she was sobbing. She let everything out, all of the fear she had felt from the moment Greyback took her until the moment Professor Snape had found her. Laying on Hogwarts grounds unable to move was as nearly frightening as being taken. Would she be found? What if she died before she could warn the others of what had happened to her? She cried at the pain she had felt from the Cruciatus Curse, but had been unable to express whilst receiving it. She cried from the pain the new scars were causing her now, as they still throbbed with the beating of her heart. The entire time, Professor Snape was silent beside her, but did not reach to touch her.

Severus stared neutrally forward, waiting for the girl's tears to subside. Her sobs reminded him of his own after his first encounter with the Dark Lord after Lily's death. He remembered that night well. Ever since, it had become a ritual, crying in his quarters with all of the wards and silencing spells he could think of surrounding him. It was how he managed to remain so impassive all of those other times, he decided. One can only bottle up one's emotions for so long.

After what felt like forever, Rebecca felt the tears subside, felt her sobs end. Suddenly, a handkerchief was placed on the bed beside her hand.

"You may keep that," he told her.

"Thank you, sir," Rebecca said as she took the offered fabric and began cleaning her face with it. "Did Madam Pomfrey take my wand?"

"It is possible," Severus said, nodding. "She usually does so with Infirmary patients. I will ask her if you may have it back tomorrow morning."

Rebecca nodded.

"Would you like a Dreamless Sleep potion?" he asked. "It may help."

"I should be all right for now, sir," she said, folding the handkerchief up and putting it on the nightstand next to the bed. "You don't have to stay with me."

"I'll remain here tonight," he said resolutely.

"You've already saved my life tonight, Professor Snape, there's no need to coddle me, now," Rebecca said, a bit embarrassed.

Severus remained silent for a long time. Rebecca shifted, thinking she had angered him again. Instead, he finally spoke.

"I will not allow you to be put into harm's way again because of me, Miss Felan," he said quietly.

"Sir?" she asked, looking at him.

"Greyback would not have taken you had I not argued with you as I did."

"He would have gotten me eventually, sir," she said. "It's not your fault."

"There will be no more arguing, Miss Felan, you are weak and need your rest," he said, standing.

Rebecca watched as he walked across the room, his robes billowing behind him. He went out of sight. He returned a few moments later with a vial, holding it out to her.

"Dreamless Sleep," he said. "You need your strength for tomorrow when Umbridge comes to see you, which she inevitably will."

Rebecca took it carefully from him and sniffed it, then took the potion. She handed him back the vial and felt immediately drowsy.

"You'll stay the night, then, in that chair, sir?" she asked, laying her head against the pillow.

"Yes, Miss Felan, I shall," he said, setting the vial on the nightstand before settling into the chair.

Rebecca nodded, and then she felt the potion taking its effect on her. She didn't dream at all.

Albus re-entered the Infirmary about an hour after he had left to find Severus seated, purposefully, in the chair next to Rebecca's bed. He was watching the girl in her sleep, a concerned expression on his face.

"You wanted to speak to me, Severus?" he asked his Potions Master.

"Yes," Severus said, still watching Rebecca. She had moved in her sleep, but looked peaceful otherwise.

He stood from the chair, taking out his wand and performing the _Muffliato_ spell without speaking it. He approached the Headmaster and didn't stop until he was a few inches from the older man.

"That is one of my Slytherins lying in that bed, Albus," Severus said, pointing at Rebecca on the bed.

"She is one of my students, too, Severus," Albus said evenly. "She is under my protection as well."

"You tricked the girl into becoming a spy, Albus," Severus said through clenched teeth. "You appealed to her better nature, her want to protect her friends, to not feel as though she was weak. You've placed her into danger I'm not sure you completely understand."

"She agreed to everything that I told her, Severus," Albus said, his voice still calm. "I told her there would be danger."

"She was too young to consent."

"I believe she would argue differently, Severus," Albus said. "Rebecca once told me she does not feel like a child, that she never has. She dislikes it when people underestimate her because of her age. It is true that she is only fifteen, but if she wished to help I was not going to stop her."

"You pursued her, Albus," Severus said. "She would never have thought of becoming an Order member at fifteen."

"She was already acting the part of spy in her fourth year, Severus," Dumbledore said.

Severus blinked at the Headmaster.

"She brought her suspicions of the imposter Alastor Moody to me within a few months of his employment. She said she was truly convinced he was not the Alastor that we thought him to be when he showed them the Unforgiveables."

"How could she have known?" Severus asked, disbelieving.

"She told me she saw it in his eyes," Albus replied. "When he cast the curses, she said he looked as though he enjoyed it. She didn't think an Auror should enjoy something like that. I told her I couldn't help but agree with her. I asked her then if she wouldn't mind keeping an eye on Professor Moody for me. She agreed."

"So you told her of an organization that would fight that Dark Lord?"

"Of course not," he said. "But I'm certain she suspected. She's very intelligent, as you well know."

"As we all well know," Severus said.

"You cannot be angry at me for a decision that was hers to make, Severus," Albus continued. "Rebecca is far more an adult in this matter than even some of our Order members now."

Severus grunted in response.

"Tell me the reason why you are truly angry, Severus," Albus said in his coaxing tone. "Did you, perhaps, yell at Rebecca when I sent her down tonight to inform you of my plans to have her tell Harry and the others of her spying duties?"

Severus remained silent.

"I see," Albus said. "And now you feel as though her being captured is your fault."

Albus watched as Severus balled his hands into fists. His knuckles turned white almost immediately.

"You mustn't blame yourself, Severus," Albus said. "If Tom was targeting her, he would have done anything to get to her. You have saved her life tonight, Severus. I doubt she will forget that. Your argument is moot at this point."

Severus didn't reply. Albus looked to the girl on the bed.

"I believe Harry and the others should be allowed to see her scars," he said suddenly.

The Potions Master felt his anger burn inside of him. He rounded on the Headmaster. "You are insane, Albus!" he cried. "You are going to exploit what happened to Miss Felan so that Potter will feel compelled to keep fighting against the Dark Lord? Have you no shame, Albus?"

"I feel that her friends should know the full truth of what Rebecca is putting herself through," Albus said, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "Do not think the worst of me, Severus."

"You've employed a child to further your own plans," Severus replied scathingly. "What else can I think of you?"

The two wizards stared at one another for a long time, neither of them speaking or moving. Finally, Albus turned and left the Infirmary without saying another word to the Potions Master. Severus went back to his vigil at his student's bedside, still seething.

* * *

_Christmas at Grimmauld Place, December 1995_

The rest of the term had proven difficult for Rebecca to get through, but she had managed with the support of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Now the first half of the term was completed, which meant it was at least a bit of time to relax for all of them. They all needed it after Mr. Weasley had been attacked, a stressful time, particularly for Harry. With everyone concerned about him, it took some of the pressure off of her for a while.

Though her friends, Professor Snape and Alastor treated her normally, the rest of the Order and even Albus did not seem to know exactly how to speak to her or act around her. It made Rebecca self-conscious, rubbing her left forearm where she knew the scarred Dark Mark to be. Professor Flitwick had taught her the charm that would effectively hide it from the other students and professors who were not supposed to know of her role in the Order. The charm itself was seemingly simple, but it required a great deal of concentration and magic, making it a very draining thing to place onto her entire body. However, once it was on, it was very difficult to remove. Rebecca had discovered one very effective way to remove it, much to the dismay of her dorm mates at school.

Rebecca was beginning to have weekly, sometimes more or less, nightmares about what had happened to her. These nightmares would stress Rebecca to the point of removing the charm that was placed over her scars. She would then need to sneak into the bathroom in order to place the charm back on, or, if the dream was too draining, as it sometimes was, she had to see Professor Flitwick before going to breakfast to avoid exposure. Dreamless Sleep couldn't be used too much or it would become addictive, Professor Snape told her. Needless to say, Rebecca didn't sleep much anymore, much to her friends' concern.

Tonight was no different in Grimmauld Place. Rebecca sat up in the library, reading one of the many texts that she had been unable to get to during the summer. She and the others had only been there from school for two days, but the house was still as busy as ever with Order activities. This left Rebecca with at least some things to do. The nights, however, were quiet, obviously with everyone sleeping. In order to continue her studies and not become too bored, Rebecca usually holed herself up in the comfort of the library, which had become significantly less dusty since she'd last been in there.

The door opened and Sirius poked his head in. Rebecca had heard his approach down the hallway. In a completely silent old house, it was difficult to sneak up on anyone. Sirius opened the door the rest of the way and stood there.

"You're up late," he said, folding his arms over his chest.

"Can't sleep," she answered with a shrug, setting her place in her book. She tried to quell the feelings of being cornered.

Something must have given her away, as Sirius moved away from blocking the exit. He chose to sit in the chair across from her. He looked at her with concern.

"Dumbledore told us all what happened," he said.

"Yeah, I figured," Rebecca said.

"He said you'd adjusted fairly well back into the school life," Sirius continued, looking her over. "I think it's a load of bollocks, personally."

"Yes, well, I'm also not putting on my best spy face here," Rebecca said, brushing the hair from her face. "You wouldn't know the difference if we were at school."

"So Harry said." Sirius paused. "He's worried about you, all of us are."

"I know."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Snape told me you weren't sleeping," he said, not looking happy that he had needed to speak to the man.

"When was Professor Snape here?" Rebecca asked, her brows furrowed.

"Early this morning, when you were out with the others," Sirius replied. "He had, if you will, a mini-meeting with Remus and me."

"Why?" Rebecca asked. Honestly, if Albus had already told them everything, then what more could they talk about where she was concerned?

"He asked us to keep an eye on you for him," Sirius said, still not looking happy. "Says he's going to be under Voldemort's thumb more often than not during the break, which I'm sure he thinks is such an unfortunate turn of events."

"Sirius, please," Rebecca said quickly. "Professor Snape's on our side. Try and remember that. He did save my life. I owe him a Life Debt because of that."

"Yes, well, you should get rid of that Debt as soon as possible, lest he decide to use it against you," Sirius said. "And he seems a bit too concerned if you ask me." Sirius' eyes narrowed.

Rebecca sighed, exasperated. "I honestly don't know why you hate him so much, Sirius," she said. "He and Remus seem to get along all right, albeit with stiffly polite conversations."

"I don't trust him."

"I do."

"I think you're a nutter, then," Sirius replied with a half-smirk.

Rebecca glared at him a moment. "If I tell you something, you have to promise not to tell anyone else, especially Professor Snape," she said quickly.

"Fine, I promise."

"Sirius, I mean it."

The way the girl was looking at him, Sirius finally understood the importance of whatever it was she was holding back. He straightened in his chair and looked at her seriously.

"I promise, Becca, really," he said, lowering his voice.

"Professor Snape blames himself for what happened to me," Rebecca said. "We argued over an order Albus had me give to him that night. I left to go take a walk, and that's when Greyback got me." She paused. "He sat up with me that night, and before he all but forced me to take the Dreamless Sleep potion I kept denying, he promised me he wouldn't let harm come to me because of him again."

Sirius paused. It seemed old Snivellus did have a conscience, and it was a powerful one at that.

"Why didn't Dumbledore give the order to Snape himself?" Sirius asked quietly, honestly curious.

"He wasn't in the mood for Professor Snape's attitude at the moment," Rebecca said. "He knew he would argue, and I think Albus had been dealing with Umbridge all day, so he was probably worn out."

"What was the order, if it's not some secret spy stuff I shouldn't know about?"

Rebecca bit her lower lip. "It was about my telling Harry, Ron, and Hermione that I was an Order spy," she said finally. "Professor Snape didn't want me to tell them."

"Why?" Sirius asked. "Was he concerned that they'd rat you out to everyone?"

"Essentially," Rebecca said with a shrug. "He was concerned they'd accidentally say something because they wouldn't be made to make an Unbreakable Vow, like the rest of the Order was when I was inducted. He was concerned for my safety, as well as his own, which is understandable."

Sirius stared at the girl. What was it that the greasy git was trying to do? Rebecca didn't seem put-off by his behavior. Well, she did, but she found it confusing, from what he could tell. She didn't seem too concerned when speaking about him.

"So you trust him," Sirius said, leaning back in the chair. "Does he trust you?"

"Professor Snape doesn't trust anyone," she said quietly. "But I think he does, in his own way. He wouldn't have told me some of the things that he has otherwise."

"Like what?"

"It's very personal," Rebecca said quickly. "I don't think he'd want you of all people hearing about it. He said it while he was trying to comfort me after the attack."

"Dumbledore mentioned that no matter what he said to you, you wouldn't respond," Sirius whispered.

"I was in shock," Rebecca said.

Sirius watched her as she rubbed at her left forearm.

"Are they painful?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not anymore," she admitted. "Only for the first few days afterward, when my body was still getting rid of all the poison."

"I thought you were given anti-venom."

"I was— for Acromantula venom," Rebecca said. "The knife Bellatrix used had modified Acromantula venom in it, so the anti-venom got rid of most of its potency. The rest of it I had to sweat out over the next few days, but it was at such low levels it was merely uncomfortable, not deadly."

"You were very brave, Dumbledore said," Sirius said, feeling his hands clench at the thought of his maniac cousin touching Rebecca.

Rebecca didn't respond.

Sirius had another thing to say, but the way she was now shutting down, he wasn't sure if he should bring it up or wait until she was more open. He decided to go ahead and say it.

"Both Dumbledore and Snape think you're hiding something from them, Becca," he said as gently as he could. "I know Dumbledore's concerned about what it might be. And, from what you're telling me, I can only imagine that Snape's pulling his hair out about what it could be."

Rebecca still didn't speak. She stared resolutely at the floor in front of her, refusing to think about the incident any longer.

Sirius was frustrated. What was it that she was hiding? If it was something serious, something she should have had medical attention over last month… he didn't want to imagine what might happen to her because of the delay in action.

"Rebecca, if it's something you need medical attention over—"

"If it was, I would've told Madam Pomfrey," Rebecca said quickly, nearly snapping at Sirius. That made him stop talking, made him actually look at her. "I just wish everyone would stop worrying about me so much. You all act like I'm going to explode or something."

She was glaring at him. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that her treatment of Sirius, who was only trying to help, wasn't fair. But no one seemed to grasp that she just wanted to drop the subject.

"My only reaction to the whole ordeal was a bit of poisoning, which was fixed very quickly, and some scarring, which has also been taken care of," Rebecca said.

"You won't let anyone get close to you," Sirius said. He would not let her get her way out of this conversation. There was clearly something wrong because of how worked up she was becoming over his comment. "I would call that a reaction."

"I would like to see how much you like being touched after Bellatrix Lestrange takes a knife to your skin," Rebecca said, her voice low. "Or after Tom Riddle touches you with his cold fingers and forces you to look into his lifeless, red eyes. They look like snake-eyes, you know."

Sirius almost gave up at those words. Coupled with the look she was giving him, it was almost enough to cover up the other pain that she was trying to hide.

"I can't even begin to imagine what that could do to someone," Sirius said quietly, keeping his composure only just. "But I don't think that's what's caused your aversion to touch, and I don't think Dumbledore and Snape do, either."

Rebecca glared at him, her lips remaining shut.

Sirius slumped in his chair. "Rebecca, I'm only trying to help," he said pleadingly. "You're Harry's friend and he's worried sick about you. After spending a bit of time with you this summer, I'd like to think of you as my friend, too," he added. "As you know, I'm fiercely loyal, just like the rest of the Order. If I think a friend is in trouble, I want to do everything I can to help that friend." He paused. Rebecca's glare had become less of one by this point. "If you tell me, I won't tell another soul what you say. I won't even tell Snape what you said if you don't want me to."

"I don't want this to be discussed by anyone else," Rebecca whispered. "Just between us would be best, I think."

"Of course."

Rebecca looked to the ground next to her chair, as if the rug that laid there held her story. Sirius waited patiently for her to speak.

"Greyback was the one who took me," Rebecca said.

Sirius nodded.

"He… touched me," Rebecca said, cringing at the memory.

Sirius felt his grip on the arms of his chair tighten significantly.

"It was… only touching, and not even anything too… bad, I suppose," Rebecca said. "But he did it. He told me he could smell my fear… and he liked it." She paused. "Pettigrew was the one who took me back."

"Was he?" Sirius asked. Dumbledore had left out this part.

Rebecca nodded. "He pleaded with Tom to not have Greyback touch me any longer," she whispered, barely able to get her voice to continue speaking. "Tom knew it was because of my resemblance to Lily. Pettigrew couldn't handle it, not after watching me be tortured. Tom thought Pettigrew's sentimentality was amusing and agreed. I don't know what would have happened if the rat hadn't brought me back, and I don't want to think about it, either."

Sirius blinked. "I think that's the first time Peter's done any good in a long time," he said. "Even if it is because he's still a coward."

Rebecca nodded.

"I'll keep this between us, like you want, Becca," Sirius said, watching the girl carefully. "But I am glad that you told me."

"Thank you for keeping it secret," she said. "I don't want anyone acting any more awkwardly around me than they already are."

"I think everyone'll settle down after a couple more days," Sirius said reassuringly. "If it would help, you could remove the charm Flitwick helped you put up on your scars."

"I don't want anyone's sympathy," Rebecca said.

"No, no, not for sympathy," Sirius said quickly. "It may help you to come to terms with what's happened, having them be out like that in a safe place like this."

Rebecca paused. She had not considered that. But would it actually help her?

"I don't think I'm quite ready for that step, Sirius," Rebecca said.

Sirius nodded. They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while longer.

"Talking did help," Rebecca suddenly admitted quietly.

Sirius smiled. "I'm glad."

She gave him a tentative smile back.

That smile from her made Sirius feel a little less concerned about Rebecca. He would be able to reassure Harry, and now, it seemed, Snape, that she looked as though she would be all right.

"Well, if you need anything else, you can always talk to me," Sirius said, standing to leave.

"Thank you, Sirius," Rebecca said, watching as he began to walk from the room. "Really."

Sirius paused to look at her from the doorway. "Anything for a friend," he said.

* * *

_Helping Harry, January 1996_

"Snape's supposed to be giving me Occlumency lessons," Harry told his friends while in the Gryffindor common room.

It was just after break, and the Gryffindors and their Slytherin friend had just returned from Grimmauld Place. Harry and the others were just glad Rebecca was back to her normal self somewhat, though she was still a bit jumpy on occasion. At least they were allowed to know why instead of having to be avoided.

Now, they were seated on the over-stuffed couches in front of the fireplace. It was just before curfew and they had managed to sneak Rebecca up here under the Invisibility Cloak so she could talk with them for just a while.

"It's probably for the better, Harry," Hermione said. "I told you it was a bad idea to keep those dreams to yourself."

"Yeah, but now he has to work close with _Snape_," Ron said. He quickly looked to the Slytherin. "No offense, Rebecca," he added timidly.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "I think it'll be good for you, Harry," she said, "working closer with Professor Snape. Maybe it'll help you see he's not so bad after all, like Dumbledore and the rest of the Order and I have been saying."

"I know he saved your life and everything, Becca, but that doesn't change the fact that he hates me," Harry said.

The boy stared into the fire for a moment, feeling uncertain about all of this. His three friends watched him, unsure of what to say at first. Rebecca reached out to touch his shoulder briefly.

"What if I help you, too?"

"Learn Occlumency?" Harry asked, a bit incredulous.

Rebecca nodded.

"Rebecca, you haven't known how to perform Occlumency for long," Hermione said. "Are you sure it's a good idea to try and teach Harry?"

"It's not like I'll be teaching him," Rebecca said. "More like supplementing."

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Harry said with a shrug.

"I can't guarantee it will help, but I can try my best."

"I know, Becca. Thanks."

Harry gave her a smile; Rebecca smiled back. They moved on to different topics that night.

Later that month, Rebecca did her best to help Harry with his Occlumency, but he had a hard time grasping the concept, even with Rebecca trying to be as helpful as she could. She knew working with him directly after his lessons with Professor Snape would be a bad idea, so she always set them for a day or two afterward, to make sure he had calmed down enough. Rebecca started to lose hope. She reported what she was doing to Albus, and he seemed worried about her helping him.

"Nothing bad has come of it," Rebecca told him. "And I don't think anything will. Harry doesn't have his heart in learning this, and I'm not sure why."

Albus sighed. "I suppose all you can do is continue with what you are already doing, Rebecca."

And that's what she did. Every week they met, but still to little or no avail. Harry made very little progress, as far as she could tell. Without knowing Legilimency, there was little way to judge other than to help Harry with his meditation. Even then, he was unable to sit still or keep his brain from thinking long enough to meditate for very long.

It was becoming a task, trying to help Harry, study for classes, be in the DA, avoid Umbridge, and be a spy for the Order all at the same time. She didn't wonder why Professor Snape was so surely anymore. If it weren't for her friends, she'd be surely all the time, too.

After months of training, one day in April, Harry finally couldn't take the meditation anymore. It was the same day as Harry's meeting with Professor Snape.

"I can't do this," he said, shaking his head as he stood up.

He and Rebecca were in the Room of Requirement, the only quiet place they could go to practice.

"You just have to be patient," Rebecca said for the umpteenth time.

"No, Rebecca, I can't do this because Snape isn't giving me lessons anymore."

He ran his hand through his hair. It lay messy on his head. Rebecca looked at him for a moment, waiting for him to clarify.

"When I was waiting for him in his office, he wasn't there in time for our lesson," Harry said, babbling. He began to pace. "I looked into his Pensieve."

"Oh, Harry…"

"I know, I shouldn't have done it. I really regret it, honestly, and not just because of how mad he was after I saw what I did."

Harry looked to her.

"He told me not to tell anyone, but—I don't understand what I saw."

Rebecca furrowed her brows. "What was it?"

"My dad," Harry said, his voice a little shaky. "It was my dad, Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew, when they were kids here at school. They picked on Snape, hexed him. My mum came to help, and Snape called her a Mudblood when she tried to defend him. After my mum left, my dad and Sirius went back to hexing Snape."

Rebecca blinked, remembering suddenly what Sirius had told her when she was first inducted into the Order. _You look just like her_, he had said, referring to Lily. _Lily, please forgive me_, Professor Snape had pleaded with her that night after he had been were slowly starting to come together.

"Snape's always said my dad was an arrogant jerk while he was here, but…" He shook his head. "What Snape did wasn't right, either."

Rebecca was standing by this point, listening carefully but allowing her mind to put the pieces of the puzzle together all at once. She nodded.

"No, what he said wasn't right," Rebecca said. "And I think maybe he's trying to make up for that by being a spy."

"Maybe, but we can't just trust that he's on our side."

"Dumbledore trusts him," Rebecca said.

"Dumbledore trusts everyone."

Rebecca sighed impatiently. "I trust him."

Harry looked to her. "Why?"

"He saved my life, Harry. I owe him a Life Debt. He didn't have to save me. If he were working for Voldemort, he could have just left me there, under the tree where he found me. He could have watched me die. But he didn't. He cares about the students here. I think some part of him may even care about you, even if he hated your father so much." She paused. "But it seemed like the feeling was mutual from what you told me."

Harry shrugged. "I guess so."

"Talk to Remus about it."

"Why Remus? Why not Sirius?"

"I think Sirius would be too biased," Rebecca said. "Despite the fact that he's your godfather and he's a really nice guy, he hates Snape, too. Remus definitely seems the most neutral in this case."

Harry nodded slowly. "You're probably right."

There was a long silence in the room.

"So I guess you don't need me to help you with Occlumency anymore," Rebecca said with a bit of a smirk.

"Guess not," Harry said, smiling a bit back.

"I'm a poor teacher anyway."

"No, I'm just bad at clearing my mind."

Another pause.

"You won't tell anyone about this, will you?" Harry asked.

"No, and I don't think we should talk to anyone else about it, either," Rebecca said. "I may have my theories about Professor Snape, but I wouldn't want to be the one who tries his patience."

"Agreed."

They looked at one another for a moment.

"Thanks, Rebecca," Harry said suddenly. "I mean it. You've helped me a lot these past two years with everything, even with all the stuff on your plate."

Rebecca smiled. "I'm just glad I finally put my foot down and stopped writing your essays for you."

They laughed.

* * *

_Snape's Worst Memory, April 1996_

Rebecca entered the Transfiguration classroom the day after her talk with Harry to find that only Professor Snape was there. They had not had class with him since Harry's ordeal with the Potions Master, but Rebecca had heard from other Slytherins and from listening carefully that he was nastier than he usually was, and Gryffindor House was suffering a great loss of House Points. Even now, he still looked surely.

"Potter will no longer require your extra Occlumency help, Miss Felan," he said, nearly snarling. "Hopefully, this will allow you to focus more on our training than your _friend_."

"Harry told me he didn't need my help anymore, sir," Rebecca said.

He sneered. "I'm sure he did."

"He feels bad for what he's done," Rebecca said. "I know it's probably no consolation, sir, but you should keep in mind that everyone makes mistakes."

Snape paused for a very long time, staring at her. "It appears Potter doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut."

"He does, sir, I can assure you of that," Rebecca said. "It's my fault that I know anything at all. He was having a hard time concentrating, so I pestered him until he told me what happened, though not in any great detail. He betrayed your trust when he looked in that Pensieve—that's what's important."

Snape glared at her. "You're lying, Miss Felan."

"Why would I lie about something that would make you angry with me, professor?"

"That is precisely why you are lying, so that I will be angry with you and not with Potter," he said, stepping closer to her. "It is very Gryffindor of you, Miss Felan."

It was said in a deprecating sort of manner, and Rebecca didn't appreciate it. What she also didn't appreciate was the way he was approaching her. Thoughts of that night in November came rushing back to her. Her breath came quickly, and she began to take steps away from him for every one he took in her direction.

Snape sensed her sudden change in demeanor and stopped approaching her. Suddenly, the topic was dropped, as was his anger toward her. He could not be angry with his Slytherin, even if she might have known anything about that day that Potter saw in the Pensieve. He could especially not make her anymore frightened than she still already was. At least she had gotten better after the Winter holidays. Black had at least done something right for once, it seemed.

"Take your stance, Miss Felan, and we will begin our duel," he said, turning to put space between them.

Rebecca got ahold of herself and did as she was told, flourishing her wand. They began almost immediately. Today they were practicing non-verbal magic. It was very difficult, and Rebecca almost never got it right. Even when she did, her spells were not as powerful as they could be. This frustrated her. She was mostly able to do wandless magic, but that was always within her own dorm or with Harry and the others, when she was not under stress. Non-verbal magic was something else altogether, and it was upsetting that she could not grasp it no matter how hard she tried.

"You're getting better, Miss Felan, but there is still much to be desired in the strength of your spells."

He wasn't even panting. Rebecca had broken out in sweat from her effort, both to keep up with him physically and to produce the spells without saying a word. Professor Snape made it look effortless, and she longed for the day that she could do the same.

"Do you have any suggestions for me, sir?" Rebecca asked between breaths.

He shook his head. "You're improving by doing exactly what I've already told you," he said. "You just need more practice. We must meet twice a week until the end of the term. I want you skilled in non-verbal magic before summer."

"Yes, sir," Rebecca said.

He watched her for a moment. She looked much like Lily at this moment, but she was barely like his friend from so long ago.

"How are your studies, Miss Felan?" he asked to fill the silence.

"They're going well, sir, thank you."

He figured as much. There was no way she couldn't be doing well.

"Are you sleeping any better?"

"About the same," Rebecca said with a shrug. She put her wand back into her robes. "I don't use the Dreamless Sleep potions anymore."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"If I don't use it, I can't be addicted to it," Rebecca explained. "Madame Pomfrey was going to stop giving it to me anyway. I came up at least three times a week for a dose."

This didn't please Severus at all, but he knew there was nothing he could do for the girl. She put up a strong front, but she was just as scared as the rest of the students at Hogwarts. He remembered his promise to her all those months ago; he all but told her he would protect her no matter what, despite the fact that it was _she_ who owed _him_ a Life Debt.

He sighed.

Rebecca felt uncomfortable under his gaze, thinking about what she had possibly discovered the night before about him. Was it why he was so interested in her well-being, because he was reminded of his friend from school all those years ago? That might be it. It would certainly explain his need for forgiveness from Lily, since he had called her a Mudblood. Rebecca guessed they'd never reconciled.

"Sir?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, Miss Felan?"

She opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. "Nothing," she said with a quick smile. "Never mind, sir."

"If it is a question, Miss Felan, you might as well ask it," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Rebecca decided to go ahead and risk it. "I was going to ask about your friendship with Lily," she said quickly.

Severus stared at her, his mouth open slightly, wondering if she could possibly understand how far that question went. He managed to gather himself.

"That would be none of your business, Miss Felan," he said. "And I would suggest keeping your nose out of other people's personal lives," he added a bit nastily.

"My apologies, sir," Rebecca said with a slight incline of her head.

"Go back to the common room, Miss Felan," he told her. "We will have our next meeting in two nights' time."

Rebecca turned and made her way to the door, feeling that he was again angry with her for bringing up the topic that she did. His reaction told her that perhaps her assumptions were not quite right, but had more to them than what she originally thought. Professor Snape was a puzzling man, indeed.

* * *

_The Aftermath of the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, June 1996_

Sirius was dead.

That was all Rebecca could think about as she sat in the Infirmary along with her other friends. Neville and Ginny were quickly aided and healed, but it appeared that Ron and Hermione were going to be there for a while. Rebecca had only had a few cuts and a broken wrist, but even that was easily fixed. Madame Pomfrey allowed all of them to stay with the two while they slept, even though that was usually against her rules.

The others were all asleep, and Harry had been taken away by Albus a while ago. He would come for her next, she was sure, but only once Harry was calmed down. She was certain that Professor Snape would be there, too, probably to berate her stupidity once again for following her friends into certain danger.

Rebecca didn't care about any of that now. Sirius was dead. The person she'd come to think of as a friend. The person who managed to comfort her after her attack, the only one that had been able to besides Professor Snape. Sirius was the only one she'd told her secret.

She'd been fighting Bellatrix, trying to get revenge for her scars. Rebecca was scared, but she didn't care. All she saw was the woman's face, could only hear her cackles. She was going after Hermione. Her friend didn't have the training that she had; she was losing terribly.

Rebecca nearly hit the Death Eater with her first spell. Bellatrix screamed and wheeled upon her, wand pointed. Rebecca already put up a Shield Charm, the strongest one she could muster, and set her face to neutral. Bellatrix laughed.

"Back for more, are you, Mudblood?"

Hermione made her way from the two, presumably going to help the others. Rebecca nodded to her, but kept her eyes on Bellatrix.

"Let's see how strong your shield is, little Mudblood," Bellatrix growled. She opened her mouth to spit out a spell, but was cut off when a Stunning Spell nearly hit her.

Bellatrix cried out again and turned to face her new assailant. Rebecca saw it was Sirius and grinned at him.

"Hello, Bella," Sirius said. "I see you're trying to hurt my friend again." He tutted. "You know I don't take kindly to that."

Bellatrix looked furious. "_Crucio_!"

Sirius side-stepped and the spell crashed into the wall behind him, knocking off a piece. It fell harmlessly to the floor.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Rebecca called.

Bellatrix whipped around and had a Shield Charm up before Rebecca could blink. Sirius cast another spell at her, but Bellatrix avoided it. The two sent spell after spell at Bellatrix with no luck at hitting her. They were distracting her from the others, though, and that was enough. The rest of the Order appeared to be winning.

Bellatrix let out a final scream of frustration before turning to Rebecca.

"_Crucio_!"

Rebecca tried to move out of the way of the curse, but it hit her in the shoulder. Immediately, Rebecca curled into herself, crying out as the spell hit her. She fell to the floor and convulsed with the pain the spell was causing her. It was worse since the last time she'd received it, so much worse, and she wanted it to stop.

"Rebecca!" Sirius yelled.

The spell stopped. Rebecca lay panting on the floor, her hand gripping her wand so hard that her whole hand was white. She couldn't move except for her muscles spasming. Her nerves were on fire. She could barely hear. Her heartbeat resounded in her ears. Slowly, her hearing came back to her, and she heard dueling going on just feet from her. Finally, she forced herself to sit up, to be aware of what was happening.

Bellatrix and Sirius were dueling, and they weren't the only ones. All around the room, Order members and Death Eaters were fighting. Rebecca tried to lift her arm with little success. She grit her teeth, angry at not being quick enough to get out of the way.

Sirius was standing near a veil Rebecca had noticed when they first entered this area of the Department of Mysteries. He appeared to be winning the duel, and was getting cocky, not protecting himself as well as he should have. He was also not looking to kill, unlike his cousin.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Bellatrix called, a snarl upon her face.

"NO!" Rebecca called, but the word doubled—someone else was calling out, too. She had no time to investigate.

Suddenly, she was standing, adrenaline coursing thought her. It pumped through her veins, allowed her to not only stand, but to sprint forward.

Sirius was in the middle of a laugh when he was struck. This look remained on his face, though it was more shocked than amused, even as he began to fall back. Rebecca felt like everything was happening in slow motion. She was running toward Bellatrix, who was cackling in her victory. Sirius was falling back toward the veil, the surprise still upon his face. Rebecca watched as he disappeared behind the veil. She heard incoherent screaming she knew could only be Harry's.

That's when she tackled Bealltrix Lestrange, knocking the air out of both of them, and everything came back to full speed. Rebecca heard Bellatrix's wand sliding across the floor. Without waiting to catch her breath, Rebecca, squatting over Bellatrix, began to punch her, crying out as each blow collided with skin and bone; she felt the tears coming to her eyes, falling down her cheeks. The woman fought back, grabbing the girl's wand hand and prying it from her fingers. Rebecca punched her with her other fist, causing Bellatrix to suddenly let go of Rebecca's wand. It flew away from them.

Bellatrix was bleeding, now, and she didn't like it. Her face was contorted from both her injuries and her rage. She reached into her robes with her free hand, using the other to shield herself from the assault, Bellatrix pulled out her dagger. Rebecca's eyes widened and she grabbed the woman's wrist with both of her hands, twisting at the Death Eater's wrist and kicking at her with her feet. She would not be stabbed again. Her heart pounded in her ears. Somehow, she wrenched the dagger from Bellatrix's grasp. She now stood directly over the older witch, breathing heavily and holding the dagger in an offensive stance.

Their eyes met, then, and there was a pause. The look that Bellatrix gave Rebecca was one of supreme loathing, the wish to harm. That was when Bellatrix broke her left wrist without saying a word. Rebecca screamed when it happened, dropped to her knees. When her bones snapped, the dagger fell just in front of her. When Rebecca looked up, Bellatrix was looming over her threateningly. Rebecca took in deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm, but she heard Harry, still yelling, running toward them. There were other footsteps following.

"_Accio wand_," Bellatrix muttered, glaring at Rebecca, who held her wrist gingerly.

The wand snapped into her hand and Bellatrix turned and ran off. Rebecca looked about for her wand just as Harry passed her. She scooped it and the dagger up in her good right hand, stowing the dagger inside her cloak for later.

That was when she had witnessed the duel between Albus and Voldemort. It was spectacular in a frightening way. She had never seen nor could she have imagined such strong magic. Albus kept her and Harry safe, and Rebecca managed to keep Harry from breaking free of the enchantments. They were both crying, but they didn't realize it.

She was there when Voldemort tried to take over Harry through their connection, but saw her friend fight off the mind attack. Then, Voldemort and Bellatrix disappeared just as the Ministry officials showed up.

Now Rebecca was waiting, turning the dagger that had caused her so many problems over and over in her hands. She managed to stop crying before the Ministry officials showed up. There were cameras, lots of them. Now the whole wizarding world knew that Voldemort was back. Now everyone knew she was a true friend of Harry Potter's.

But it felt like none of that mattered. She had felt Harry's emptiness. It felt much like her own, but his was much greater. Sirius was so much more than a friend; he was the only family the boy had left. That hurt her, knowing how much pain he was in.

The door to the Infirmary opened quietly. Rebecca looked up, still holding the dagger, to see Albus walking in. She stood and went to meet him.

"Severus and I need a word with you, Rebecca," he said quietly.

"I figured as much, sir."

"I apologize for my lateness," Albus continued as they made their way out of the room and into the corridor. "But Harry took quite a while to quiet down. He is still not fully consoled, nor do I expect he will be for quite some time. Severus was also Summoned, so I was waiting on him before I came to get you."

"I didn't realize how long it had been," Rebecca said neutrally.

Albus looked at the girl. She was clearly affected by what had occurred earlier that night. She didn't even seem concerned for Severus, as she usually would have been. He kept silent until they were in his office.

When they reached the Headmaster's office, Professor Snape was already there, seated in one of the chairs near the fire. He looked very fatigued, almost as though he hadn't gotten sleep in many days, though when Rebecca saw him earlier in the night he appeared fine. Fawkes was perched on what was, of course, Albus' chair. The Headmaster took his seat and Rebecca followed, hands still clutching the dagger as if it was a comfort rather than a burden. She did take great comfort, somehow, in knowing that she had taken this herself from the hands of the crazed Bellatrix Lestrange.

Before she had even settled fully in the chair, the Potions Master began.

"Miss Felan, it is clear you did not even think of your spying duties when you followed Potter and his friends blindly once again," he said, his eyes narrowing.

Rebecca stared at the dagger, choosing not to answer or even emote.

"I have been Summoned tonight, Miss Felan," Professor Snape continued. "The Dark Lord saw you with Potter, saw you with the rest of them. He once again thought you were a spy. And, once again, Miss Felan, I have convinced him otherwise. I told him the truth: that you are a member of Dumbledore's Army, a secret defense society begun by Potter earlier in the year to thwart Dolores Umbridge. It was put out of commission when Umbridge recently discovered it. You were merely following your Army friends into danger— stupidly, I might add." He gave a slight sneer. "You've done stupid things in the name of friendship plenty of other times during your schooling here, so I showed him that as well. He believed me, but it took quite a long time."

Rebecca's hands clenched the dagger tighter. She kept her face impassive, just like she had always been taught.

"I received the Cruciatus Curse tonight, Miss Felan," he continued, his voice growing deeper with his anger.

Tighter.

"You're very lucky Severus managed to create a convincing enough story for Tom about you," Albus said patiently. He leaned toward the Slytherin girl. "That was very poor judgment to go with them, Rebecca."

Rebecca's grip on the dagger nearly hurt, considering her wrist had just been healed. She stood, throwing the dagger toward the wall; it embedded firmly, the hilt wobbling a bit because of the force behind the throw. Albus sat back in his chair. Rebecca had never had an outburst like this before.

"You told me to make sure Harry was safe, to stay with him where you could not go," Rebecca said, her voice raised as she faced Albus, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I was following orders, Albus. Orders that you've repeated to me over and over this term. Harry's my friend and my orders, how could I _not_ have gone with him to the Department of Mysteries? How could I _not_ have exposed myself by doing so? You would be berating me if I hadn't gone with him, too, I bet."

Albus remained silent, unsure of what to say. Rebecca turned to the Potions Master.

"Professor Snape, I'm sorry that you took the Cruciatus for me tonight," she said. "But I did, too. I've taken it for the Order before, if you'll remember." Her voice was growing quieter now. The weight of what had happened today was slowly coming to her. "I've lost a friend today, a good friend. I lost him because he was protecting me, protecting Harry, and because I couldn't get up fast enough."

She felt the tears coming, but she held them back. Now was not the time.

"Just let me go back to my dorm, please," Rebecca whispered, her voice hoarse from trying to hold back her tears.

She looked to the floor, not wanting to face either of these men. She heard Professor Snape stand, and she hoped he would leave. It sounded as though he would, but she was forced to look up. His hand was on the back of her head, another on her chin, tugging her eyes toward his. Rebecca immediately put up her defenses, knowing what he was going to try and do, but she was too slow.

Professor Snape was tearing through her memories, targeting Sirius. She felt his fervency, could feel it in his grasp. He had a hand on her shoulder and his other hand was keeping her head firmly in place so she would not break their gaze. Rebecca saw the memories flashing quickly. She didn't care anymore; let him see what he was bound to find out anyway.

Snape was furious. What had Black done to his Slytherin? Why was she so torn up about his death? He had to know. She tried to fight back, but he could now feel that she was slack in his grip. That's when he found her memory from the winter break, a conversation she'd had with Black. He watched it play before him, feeling the anger coil up within him more and more as the conversation continued.

After that memory was complete, he went farther, searching. He found it: the night she was taken. Now he was enraged.

Greyback had touched her, like he had suspected. He had violated her, and she had told _Black_ of all people.

He all but threw her away from him, breaking their connection quickly and with no thought to her comfort. Rebecca stumbled back into her chair, gripping the arms of it tightly. Her face was horror-struck, but only from having to re-watch everything. Snape sneered at her.

"You lied," he said. "You lied to your mentor and to your Headmaster about how much you were harmed that night."

"Severus, what are you talking about?" Albus asked, standing to come between the young girl and the irate Potions Master.

Snape knew his face was contorted in his rage. He wanted to throw something.

"You knew that you were _bound_ to tell us, I asked you directly if Greyback touched you, and you denied it," Snape continued, closing in on the girl despite Albus' being in the way.

He was now standing directly in front of her, bent forward to see her face more clearly. Rebecca had caught her breath and was watching him, growing angrier with his rising emotions.

"Why are you so angry?" she nearly yelled at him, pushing herself from her chair. Her mind scrambled to make her stop, but her body reacted to the assault of its own volition.

She closed the gap between herself and her Potions Master, going so far as to stand on her toes to get closer to his face.

"Are you angry because I lied, or because I told Sirius?" Rebecca continued.

Snape did not back down, not from his student. He glared into her eyes, though his inner emotions were slowly giving way to their familiar color.

Rebecca saw the sudden change in his glare; it was less fierce. She had him.

"I know how you think, Professor Snape," she said, her voice quickening in pace. "You thought I was so upset by Sirius' death because I loved him. You thought he was inappropriate with me. That's why you attacked me just now."

Snape's expression hardened once again. His mouth opened to retort, but Rebecca kept on, her anger barreling him over.

"No, that's exactly what you did, sir, you _attacked_ me with your Legilimency," Rebecca said, taking another step forward.

Snape took a step back. This wasn't like her to get so emotional, and even less like her to voluntarily get so close to another person.

"There was no reason for it, Professor Snape," Rebecca said, finally settling back on her heels again. "Yes, I lied to you and Albus. I was so tired of reliving that moment, and it had just happened to me. I still don't want to talk about it, but you're forcing me to. Did you want the details, sir? Well, you've already seen all the details, I suppose, so you got what you wanted."

"Miss Felan," Albus said.

Rebecca turned to face the Headmaster. There was a power in his voice she had never heard before; it was almost as if there was some sort of spell on her to make her stop shouting. Moreover, he hadn't called her that in a very long time, nearly a year.

"That is quite enough," Albus said firmly, though his voice was very quiet. His face was impassive, but his bright, blue eyes were burning with anger. "Severus was not right in using Legilimency on you in the manner that he did, but that is a Hogwarts professor that you are yelling at."

Rebecca looked to the floor, seething.

"It is clear your emotions are too greatly affected at the current moment to speak rationally to you," Albus continued. "However, we must speak before you leave for the summer. There is much more that we must discuss."

"Yes, sir," Rebecca said, nearly grumbling.

"You are dismissed, Miss Felan."

Rebecca looked into the resolute face of the Headmaster. He was not looking at her. Was this supposed to be some form of punishment? She then looked to Professor Snape, who was watching her warily, with a new light. He was not afraid, but there were so many emotions in his black eyes that Rebecca could not place any of them. Finally, she growled, a sound that she had heard her Potions Master make time and again when he was frustrated. It was appropriate now, and she couldn't help it.

On her way out, she wrenched the dagger from the wall, taking it back to the dormitory with her.

Albus watched her go, upset by how emotional she had become during what was supposed to be a talk of what happened tonight. They had been too hard on her, of that he was completely certain. Rebecca was a special sort of person, one who could bottle up her emotions quite effectively. Even those special types of people fall apart every once in a while, and it was quite clear why that had happened tonight.

He sat back in his chair, but saw Severus remained standing. The Potions Master was watching the door that had only shut moments ago. It was as if he expected his Slytherin to re-enter. Albus thought he knew why.

"Rebecca does know how you think, Severus," Albus said tiredly, "but only to a certain extent."

Severus looked to Albus, knowing that this was the only man who truly knew how he thought. He could not speak right now; Felan had completely dumbfounded him. Instead, he slowly took a seat across from Albus in front of the fire.

"You would have been angry if she was, in fact, in love with Sirius Black," Albus continued, his voice low. "That would have been highly inappropriate, I agree, and would have to be dealt with accordingly. However, that was clearly not the case. What you saw there made you angry, perhaps for the reasons Rebecca pointed out to you. She did lie, even when asked directly about the situation. Her lying was even understandable, as Rebecca said quite succinctly that she was tired of talking on the subject. She did tell Sirius and not one of us, who you would have deemed more appropriate."

Albus paused, looking at the man across from him. His hands were folded in his lap. He took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it slowly out.

"You are angry because Fenrir Greyback touched her, and you still believe it is your fault that she was taken," Albus said, his voice low and even.

Severus kept his face impassive, his usual mask. His mind, though, was working quickly, trying to think of anything to say to get Albus to stop speaking. He could think of nothing. He let his eyes narrow slightly, showing his displeasure at this topic. Albus pressed, ignoring the sign.

"You are reliving what happened so long ago concerning Lily Potter with Rebecca Felan, Severus," Albus said, shaking his head faintly for emphasis. "You are not angry simply because she lied to you and instead told Sirius what happened. You're angry because Greyback caused her harm, and you think it is your fault, that you could have stopped it had you not argued, just like you had argued with Lily."

Albus was concerned that this was what Severus was thinking. He hoped that for once his guess was incorrect, if only for the sake of the already tormented man in front of him.

Severus' hands were clenched into fists. His lips were paper-thin, and his face had gone very pale.

"I know very well how to distinguish Miss Felan from Lily," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"I'm not saying that you cannot, Severus, I'm only concerned what you're putting yourself through by thinking this way."

"For once, Albus, I think it is time to stop concerning yourself with others' affairs," Severus nearly growled, standing. "Good night."

The Potions Master's robes billowed behind him as he strode quickly toward the door, slamming it closed behind him. Albus sat silently in his chair. Fawkes sat on the arm and Albus unthinkingly began to scratch the phoenix's head. Fawkes twittered quietly, filling the room with a low thrumming sound.

"It appears I have made a mess of things once again, old friend," Albus said sadly to the phoenix.


	6. Sixth Year

**Author's Note: **This chapter has taken me a while to write, and for that I apologize. I also edited for a while. Hopefully, things will start getting interesting here. Please let me know your thoughts. And trust me, the next chapter is going to be even more riveting. The next chapter is also why the rating is as it is.

**Disclaimer: **Any of the parts that sound familiar, particularly in the scene with Slughorn's Christmas party, Scrimgeour at Christmas and Dumbledore's death, have been taken from _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ by J.K. Rowling.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Sixth Year**

_At Home_, _Then_ _to the Burrow, June-July 1996_

Emily Felan was very worried about her daughter. Usually, the girl was the least of her problems, despite the fact that she was so _different_. She always had been, as far as Emily could remember. Somehow, she always knew Rebecca would be magical, like Emily's own mother had been. As soon as she learned that Rebecca was magical, Emily had wanted to tell Rebecca what she knew about her family. But her fear of Roger discovering everything, of being angry enough to throw the both of them out, kept her silent.

Her husband was a difficult man at his worst, but he was generally kind enough to everyone, even civil to Rebecca. Emily couldn't help think that this was a good thing, especially this summer. Though she didn't know her daughter all that well, Emily couldn't help but notice a change in the girl—young woman, now, as she was 16. These changes weren't just physical.

Rebecca was much more graceful than she had ever been. She had always been clumsy, always hurting herself. She was also more inclined to talk to you from across the room rather than a few feet next to you. If you tried to sit next to her on the couch she would move to a chair or out of the room altogether. Heaven forbid you try to touch her; she would practically jump out of her skin.

This Emily all noticed within the first three days of Rebecca coming home. After the third day, she avoided her family every chance she got. Even though it was relatively warm outside, Rebecca wore long-sleeved shirts, sometimes sweaters or turtlenecks. Emily thought this was very strange, and, coupled with her aversion to touch, she couldn't help but wonder what had occurred at school this past year for her daughter.

Last summer had been a strange and quiet ordeal, since Rebecca's Headmaster— Dumbledore was his name— had come to speak with she and her husband, Roger. He had explained that Rebecca was joining a society, something about a Phoenix, and would need to undergo training for that summer. He asked for their written and signed permission for Rebecca to join this society, which Emily had signed. Rebecca had looked so thrilled to be a part of something, and Emily couldn't take her away from that. Now, she wondered what exactly Dumbledore had gotten her daughter into.

Every time Emily tried to talk to Rebecca, the girl would dodge her questions. The only thing she talked about her tests she had just taken, owls, it sounded like, but Emily wasn't quite certain if that was right. She spoke a lot about that man she and Roger had seen on the telly a few summers ago—Sirius Black. He was her friend Harry's godfather, Rebecca said, and a good person. He wasn't actually a murderer, either, apparently. Emily was a bit grateful that her daughter wasn't hanging around murderers, especially magical murderers.

"He's dead," Rebecca told her.

"I'm sorry, dear," Emily said, truly meaning it this time.

Rebecca sighed, then, and started talking about another of her favorite subjects: her friends and professors.

Emily had heard these names countless times, but only had started listening this summer. She was glad Rebecca was finally talking to her, if a bit untrustworthy of her motives still. The name that kept reoccurring more often than others (besides, of course, Harry, Ron, and Hermione) was Professor Snape. He was the Potions Master, Rebecca said, and her mentor. He taught her lots of things, including powerful magic that she shouldn't know.

"What magic, Becca?" Emily asked, a bit concerned.

"Nothing bad, Mum," Rebecca said quickly before changing the subject once again.

Rebecca also mentioned that since she would be turning 17 while at school, when she came home that next summer she would be able to do magic without punishment from the Ministry.

"I'd like to see what you've learned, Becca," Emily said with a smile.

Rebecca looked curiously at her and said no more that day.

The second week in July sent around a strange man to collect Rebecca. One of his eyes was much larger than the other, he walked with a pronounced limp, and his voice was extremely gravelly when he spoke. He introduced himself as Alastor Moody and appeared disinterested in everything around him.

"Rebecca's mentioned so much about you, Mr. Moody," Emily said to the strange, older man by way of a conversation starter. Rebecca was gathering her things upstairs quickly, having been uncertain of when anyone would come to pick her up.

He turned his head to face her and seemed to consider her. "I'm glad she's been talking," he said in his deep voice.

He looked about, his larger eye doing many things Emily had never seen an eye do before. It rolled about in its socket, as if looking everywhere in the house.

"Your husband's not home," he stated. "Probably for the best. Albus said he wasn't very pleased with him or Minerva when they came along." He looked at her neutrally. "You're not like him."

Emily shook her head slowly. "I love Rebecca," she whispered. "She's my daughter, even if she's different. Roger… has issues with people who are different from him."

Moody grunted. "I'd like to tell you Becca's escaped those types of people in the wizarding world, but I'd be lying if I told you so."

Emily was surprised that this man addressed her daughter so familiarly, but he was one of the ones who was helping her learn new things, Rebecca had said. He seemed like he was nice, if a bit hardened by whatever his line of work was.

"Becca's a very strong girl," Emily finally said. "I'm sure she's achieved great things in your world."

Moody looked at her full in the face. Emily moved uncomfortably under the gaze of what she was certain was a magical eye. It felt as though it was staring right through her.

"You don't know the half of it, I'm afraid, Mrs. Felan," he growled, though it was not in an unkind manner.

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Moody?" Perhaps this man would give her the answers her daughter was so adamant in keeping from her.

His eye shot behind him, toward the staircase. Emily heard Rebecca's footsteps and her trunk being dragged along behind her.

"That'll be something she'll have to tell you herself, Mrs. Felan," Moody said quietly. He turned to Rebecca. "Ready to go to the Burrow, Becca?"

"Let's go, Alastor," Rebecca said, lugging her trunk in front of her.

"I'll get that for you."

Alastor brought out his wand and shrank her trunk, then placed it in his pocket.

"I can't wait 'till I'm seventeen," Rebecca said with a sigh.

Moody smirked. "Soon enough."

Emily stood. "Rebecca, have a good school year."

"Thanks, Mum."

Rebecca stood awkwardly in front of her mother, unsure of what to do next.

"Be safe," Emily whispered.

Rebecca nodded. "I promise, Mum."

Emily smiled, then walked the two of the out to the backyard, where she waved goodbye to her daughter once again as she disappeared, leaving for what was—and was becoming quickly apparent—her _own_ world. She sighed sadly before going back into the house, having just been on the verge of divulging her secret to Rebecca before the girl disappeared with the strange Alastor Moody. Perhaps next year.

Rebecca knew that Harry was still not himself. It had been two days since he'd been at the Burrow, but he was not as talkative as he usually was.

They were all sitting up in Ron's room. Hermione was reading one of their new textbooks. Ron and Harry were playing Wizard's Chess. They'd all gotten their O.W.L.s back the day Harry arrived, but they hadn't opened them yet. They were waiting on Harry. Rebecca knew the suspense was killing Hermione, as she was extremely fidgety throughout the silence of the room. Rebecca chose to play with Crookshanks, rolling a marble she had found in the living room across the floor to the Kneazle so he could roll it back. The sound broke the silence.

Suddenly, Hermione slammed the book closed and then down, drawing the others' attention.

"That's it, we're reading them," Hermione grumbled, standing and going to her beaded purse, where she had stowed the letters.

She brought them out and handed them to everyone. She quickly opened hers. Rebecca waited and watched her. Hermione let out a sigh of relief before looking up to her friends and smiling.

"All 'Outstandings,' except for Defense Against the Dark Arts," she said. "That one is 'Exceeds Expectations.'" She turned to Rebecca. "What did you get?"

Rebecca paused, looking down at her letter. Did it even really matter? She didn't think it did. She opened it anyway, to appease Hermione, and she heard the boys doing the same. Rebecca scanned the words on the page quickly.

"'Outstandings' in Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts," Rebecca said quietly. "'Exceeds Expectations' in everything else except Divinations and Astronomy—those are 'Acceptables.'"

She looked to Ron, who then read off his list. His list had more "Acceptables" than anything else, but he looked happier after reading the list.

Then they got to Harry, who sighed before reading off his list. He received an "Outstanding" in Defense Against the Dark Arts and nothing else; his grades sounded like Rebecca's. When he was done reading his letter, he let it fall to the ground without comment, turning back to the chess board.

Rebecca folded up her letter, placing it in her pocket before continuing her game with Crookshanks.

"Aren't you happy?" Hermione asked. "You did well, Harry. You passed all the classes you wanted to!"

Harry rounded upon her. "No, Hermione, I'm not happy," he all but snapped.

Even Crookshanks turned to him because of his tone. Harry stood and left the room. Ron sighed and shook his head, beginning to put away the chess pieces, who began to quarrel with him for interrupting their game. Hermione looked confused. Rebecca stood and followed Harry out of the room, stooping to pick up Harry's letter first.

She found him on the landing of the staircase, looking down the many flights of stairs the Burrow offered. He was glaring over the railing, his hands gripping it tightly.

"Hey," Rebecca said quietly.

"I don't really want to talk right now, Rebecca," Harry said, clearly gritting his teeth. He didn't want to snap at his friends, but he was still hurt over Sirius' death.

"I know you don't," Rebecca said. She sighed, looking down at his letter. "But this is affecting you. You need to talk."

"You sound like you're on Dumbledore's mission," Harry said, shooting her a look out of the corner of his eye.

Rebecca shook her head. "Don't act like I'm some super double agent like Professor Snape," she said quietly. "Don't pretend like my only motives are for Dumbledore. I'm your friend first, Harry, yours and Ron's and Hermione's. That's why I took this position in the first place, to help all of you."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, turning around to face her. "It's…"

"It's a lot," Rebecca said, finishing the sentence when his words faltered. "I understand."

Harry opened his mouth to retort. No, she didn't understand, he wanted to say. But then he saw the look on her face. She did understand, even if it was in a different way.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, further mussing it. "I feel like all of this is my fault," he said, trying to start again. "If I had just tried harder at Occlumency, Voldemort wouldn't have led me to the Department of Mysteries. Sirius would still be alive."

Rebecca was going to tell him that it wasn't his fault. But she paused, considering him for a moment. It wasn't his fault, truly it wasn't. But this was no one's fault but Sirius', she had realized slowly over the lonely days of thinking at her muggle home. And though she was hurting at the loss of her new friend, Harry was feeling something much deeper.

"It's not your fault, Harry," she told him. "You can't think like that. Sirius wouldn't want you to."

Harry looked up at her, his eyes shining in the light from the tears he was holding back.

"You know he wouldn't have wanted you to dwell too much on his death," Rebecca continued. "He'd want you to miss him, of course, but Sirius would tell you that you need to focus on other things, like school." She handed him his letter. "And he'd be proud of you."

"He _would_ be proud of you, Harry," Hermione's voice said from behind Rebecca.

It was all she could do to not draw her wand at the start of the voice. Rebecca instead side-stepped, allowing room for Hermione and Ron. Both were smiling at Harry.

"Yeah, mate," Ron said. "Sirius wouldn't want you to feel like this is your fault. Rebecca's right—it isn't."

Harry nodded, looking down at the letter with his O.W.L. results. "He would be proud, wouldn't he?" he asked, smirking as he looked up at his friends.

Rebecca nodded.

"Thanks, guys," Harry said, his smirk broadening into a smile.

There was a silence among the group, but it was a comfortable one for once this summer.

"Ron, what's your mum making for dinner?" Harry asked suddenly, beginning to fold up his letter.

"Dunno, wanna find out?"

"Definitely."

"Boys," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes and a smirk to Rebecca.

"All they think about is food," Rebecca said, grinning.

They were all going to be okay, Rebecca realized as they made their way down the stairs to the kitchen. That was what really mattered.

* * *

_Meeting with Albus, September 1, 1996_

Rebecca entered Albus' office for what seemed the umpteenth time, though it was the first for this school term. She had not left Albus in a bad light as she had thought she would. He did not call her back into his office after she yelled at him and Professor Snape until the last possible moment. Then, he had calmly acted as though it had not happened, and gave her the duties he wished for her to perform over the summer.

The summer itself had proven difficult from Rebecca before she and the others had been whisked away to the Burrow. She had to hide her scars from her parents after the third night there. She'd had a nightmare that was bad enough to cause her to have a panic attack, making her body use up its own magic stores. It caused the charm upon her body to fizzle out. So, for the rest of June and into early July, Rebecca had to hide from her ever-curious mother, who seemed to notice a change in her. Rebecca was all too glad when Alastor finally came to retrieve her and take her to the Burrow.

Now she was standing before Albus, charm firmly in its place to hide her scars. While the charm had been missing, Rebecca had felt terribly exposed and uneasy, even around her friends and the Weasley family. Now that it was back, and that she was back at Hogwarts, she felt much more confident and safe.

"Good evening, Albus," she said, nodding toward him and taking a seat on the other side of his desk from him.

"Good evening, Rebecca," the Headmaster replied, seeming somewhat tired.

Rebecca had noticed at the Feast that Albus had been attempting to hide his right arm. She would need to bide her time with him. Albus never revealed anything unless it was in his own good time.

"I trust you had a good summer, my dear," Albus continued.

"It got better once I was able to go to the Burrow," Rebecca said. "Even then, though, I'm afraid it was a bit tough."

Albus gave a tired smile. "It appears we had similarly difficult summers."

He slowly pulled his right arm from under the cover of his robes and placed it gently upon the desk before her. Rebecca blinked a couple of times before the image registered in her brain.

His right hand was completely withered and blackened, looking as though he had burned himself horribly and the skin had never healed. In fact, the skin that was there looked paper-thin, as if any sudden movement would tear it from his bone. There was no more muscle density there, only skin, veins, and bone.

Rebecca rose sudden in horror. "Albus," she said, her voice a bit shaky. She looked quickly from his hand to his eyes. "What happened here?"

"I did not wish to keep you in the dark any longer, Rebecca," Albus whispered slowly. "But what I am about to reveal to you must remain between yourself, Severus, and I. It deserves the utmost secrecy."

"I promise, Albus."

"I know I can trust you, Rebecca," he said, removing his hand from the desk and hiding it again in his robes.

He remained quiet for a long time, trying to figure out where to begin. Rebecca kept standing, watching him carefully.

"Rebecca," Albus said with a sigh. He looked into the girl's eyes. He paused. It was unfair to burden her as he was about to, but as his spy, she must know everything that was to occur. She would become as integral to his plans as Severus already was.

"I'm dying."

Rebecca gasped, her hands covering her mouth quickly. She felt her eyes begin to water. Without thinking, she stepped toward the Headmaster that had somehow become a surrogate father. She hugged him, though it was very brief.

"No," she said quietly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but it is true." He hugged her with his good arm, surprised at her actions.

Rebecca drew the chair from around the side of the desk so she could sit closer to him. She let her tears fall; they were the first since Sirius' death, and she felt no desire to stop them.

"How did it happen?"

Albus waited a moment, hoping that Rebecca would be able to assuage her tears. They did not appear to be letting up. He didn't realize until now how close he felt to her. Albus always marveled at Rebecca's strengths, at her will and personality. She seemed a much older soul in the body that she occupied. Albus thought that she belonged in the past, during the first war, but he was grateful for her being here now when he needed her, even despite her age.

"Are you familiar, Rebecca, with the Dark Art of Horcruxes?" Albus asked.

Rebecca thought for a moment. The term sounded familiar, and she thought she might have read about them in one of the books at Grimmauld Place.

"I'm… not sure."

"A Horcrux is made when a Dark wizard or witch has committed an act of murder in cold blood," Albus said. "It is then that the Dark wizard or witch can encase a fragment of their soul into an object of their choosing. By doing so, this allows this wizard or witch to live on in a corporeal body if their physical one is ever destroyed until they can reform another physical body."

Rebecca immediately felt her mind begin to go to work. Her tears quickly stopped as she thought. "Through the act of murder the soul is split, you mean?" she asked. "Because murder is such a terrible act, one's soul would not be able to remain intact?"

"Exactly."

Rebecca paused, recalling what Harry said had occurred during his first year when he defeated Quirrell, who was housing Voldemort. He said when Quirrell died, his body decomposed, but a ghostly-looking figure emerged from the remains and flew at him, attempting to kill him.

"Did Voldemort utilize the concept of Horcruxes, Albus?"

He gave a small smile. "I can always count on you to be sharp-witted, Rebecca," he said fondly. "Yes, Tom created Horcruxes. I discovered one of them in the home of his family."

Albus then produced a ring. It was somewhat plain-looking, but Rebecca knew she would never be able to forget it. It had a gold band with what appeared to be scales, like a snake's, etched into it. The stone was completely black and had a curious marking within it: a circle inside of a larger triangle, a line splitting both in half.

"Tom cursed the ring, which I knew, but I put it on for reasons beyond comprehension at the moment," Albus continued. He must leave the part out about the Hallows. That she did not need to know at this time. "The curse attempted to kill me then, but I stopped it and destroyed the Horcrux inside of this ring. Severus aided in keeping the curse within my hand. However, I have only a year to live."

Rebecca nodded slowly.

"Harry inadvertently destroyed another of Tom's Horcruxes in his second year," Albus said, opening up a drawer of his desk.

Rebecca furrowed her brows. Albus placed upon the desk the remains of Tom Riddle's diary, the Basilisk fang still shoved through its center.

"The diary was a Horcrux?" Rebecca asked.

Albus nodded. "It is still uncertain how many Horcruxes Tom made," he said. "But I am certain he is the only person in existence to have made more than one."

"What happens to someone when they create a Horcrux?" Rebecca asked. "Other than their soul splitting."

"They become less human."

"Which is why Voldemort looks like a snake."

"Yes," Albus said, nodding.

Rebecca paused, staring at Albus' neutral face for a long moment. How could he take dying so easily?

"How…?" She put her face in her hands, trying to figure out how best to phrase the question.

"It will be a painful, slow death," Albus finished for her, already knowing what she wanted to ask. It was a predictable question. "By the end, I will no longer remember who I am nor anything that I have done. I will remember none of the secrets that I have kept, nor even who you are, Rebecca."

Rebecca bit her lower lip. "That sounds horrible," she whispered.

"Which is why it is advantageous that Tom is trying to kill me before my year is up," Albus said quietly.

Rebecca sat up in the chair. "How does he plan on doing that?"

"He has his own spies at Hogwarts…"

"A Slytherin?"

"Of course." He gave an ironic smile. "They do make the best spies." He chuckled.

"Though I appreciate the compliment, Albus, I hardly think this is the time to be joking."

"There is so little time for laughter anymore, I find it appropriate."

Rebecca gave him a sad smile. "Will this spy really kill you? If he—or she—is a student, will they have the resolve to do so?"

"If I were to tell you the spy's name, do you think you would be able to tell me yourself whether or not he would commit the crime?"

Rebecca frowned. She knew the Slytherin students well from having observed them closely for going on six years, especially this past year. "Perhaps."

"Tom has ordered Draco Malfoy to kill me."

"I see."

"What is your take on the situation, Rebecca?" Albus asked. "I can see you thinking."

"It sounds like a punishment for Lucius Malfoy's failings at the Department of Mysteries in June," Rebecca replied immediately.

Albus nodded. "My sentiments as well."

He saw the reserved look in her eyes. She was holding back the rest of her answer. He sighed. "You do not think Draco can kill me."

"Draco may be a lot of things," Rebecca said thoughtfully, "but he is not a killer. He is a coward above all else. He is used to his father's power and money doing things for him, and for Crabbe and Goyle the younger being his muscle. He is intelligent, and a Slytherin, so he will complete his task up until he is to kill you. He may go so far as to point his wand at you, but he will not be able to do it."

"It astonishes me how well you read people, Rebecca," Albus said, smiling at the Slytherin student he was glad that he saved. "And how much you read people as I do: accurately and quickly."

"You knew as soon as you learned of Voldemort's plans that Draco would not be able to kill you."

"Very true, Rebecca, which is why I have made a Plan B, if you will."

"And what is this 'Plan B'?"

"You will not like it."

"I rarely ever like your plans, Albus, but they generally work for the best despite their absurdities."

Albus took in a deep breath and sighed. "I have ordered Severus to kill me if Draco cannot—"

Rebecca had stood very suddenly, cutting off the Headmaster. "No!" she nearly yelled. "Why would you ask him to do something like that? He refused! Professor Snape could no more kill you than I could!"

"Rebecca, I must ask you to lower your voice," Albus said patiently.

"He said no, I'm sure of it!" Rebecca said harshly, barely calmed.

"Severus did say no, but I made him promise," Albus continued. "I cannot live without knowing who I am, and it must be he that kills me."

"Why?" Rebecca asked.

"Because he is a Death Eater, and he has already made an Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa that he will complete the plan should Draco be unable to."

Rebecca sunk back into her chair, staring blankly. Nothing was making sense anymore. Her life was beginning to crumble around her, starting with her leader and the only man she had ever felt a fatherly affection for. This could not be possible, but Rebecca knew there was no way this was all some terrible dream. She needed to maintain her sanity.

"Severus will need your help, Rebecca, whether he asks for it or not," Albus continued. He knew the girl was stunned, as he could only expect. "He is already torn about the Vow that he has made earlier this summer, but he had no time to consult me. This was, luckily, after I had been cursed, so he knew the state that I was in. One of your duties will be to make sure he follows through on his promise to me, but that he does not lose himself in the process. You must keep him sane, Rebecca, for the wizarding world's sake."

"I… understand," Rebecca said. "Though imposing myself onto him will not end well."

"I have faith that you will come up with a plan that will help the both of you," Albus said with a smile. He paused for a long time. "At least I will be taken out of my misery by a friend," he added, his voice sounding cheerful.

Rebecca looked to him. He had accepted death so readily; it was extremely off-putting. But Rebecca understood why he did not want to carry on living while under the influence of the curse.

"I will need you and Harry to witness my death," Albus said. "I know it will be difficult for the both of you, Rebecca, but you must remember that it is a mercy killing."

Rebecca clenched her jaw tightly and felt the tears reappearing in her eyes. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"You must keep Harry safe above all else," Albus said. "Once I am gone, Harry is one of the last hopes of the wizarding world."

"I will do my best, Albus," Rebecca said, though her voice was weak.

"You always do."

Albus sat back in his chair and then related the rest of his plan to her in a straight-forward manner. He was going to tell Harry everything he had collected about Tom Riddle and tell him what he needed to know about Horcruxes. With this knowledge, as well as a few things left to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and even Rebecca herself after his death by his Will, they would be able to hunt Horcruxes during their Seventh Year.

"By that time, I expect Tom will have full-run of the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts," Albus said. "For Hogwarts I have already accounted. For the Ministry, there is little I can do. The four of you will not be able to safely come back to Hogwarts, so you must travel in secret in order to hunt the Horcruxes. You will be a major asset to them, Rebecca, without their even knowing it."

"Because I must keep my secrets," Rebecca finished for him. "I understand, Albus. I promise that I will help them any way I can."

Albus smiled at her. "I have full faith in you, Rebecca."

* * *

_Convincing Snape_,_ early September 1996_

Professor Snape was in his element, Rebecca had noted during her Defense Against the Dark Arts class earlier that day. Potions was a favored art form of his, but the Dark Arts were his passion, and it clearly showed through the way he spoke, the way he looked at the students, even the way he moved. Rebecca could barely pay attention, thinking about all she had learned from Albus the other night, and from how different Potions class was now with Horace Slughorn, a professor from long ago.

Slughorn immediately had his sights on her, a friend of Harry Potter's. But that was not just it, he had told her when he pulled her from her friends after class.

"You look like someone I know from long ago," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. He smiled at his compliment. "She was a very powerful witch. A muggleborn, like yourself."

Rebecca said nothing, though she knew to whom he referred.

"Severus speaks very highly of you, as does Albus," he added with a wink. "I would be honored if you would join my club, Miss Felan."

Rebecca muttered an affirmative before joining Harry in the corridor for their next class. She was a member of the "Slug Club" now. This would prove to not only be a good spying point, as many powerful students would be asked to join as well, but irritating and probably a bother. Harry didn't seem too keen on the idea, and Ron looked surely at not being extraordinary enough to receive an invite. Rebecca rolled her eyes; the boy's temper could be so much like his hair at times.

And now the class was over and others were quickly leaving the room for dinner. Rebecca waited for the room to clear out before approaching the desk, where Professor Snape sat scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"Sir?"

"What is it, Miss Felan?" he asked, already sounding annoyed. He did not look up from his writing.

"I would like to request the training which you turned me down for last year, Professor Snape," Rebecca said, staring at him firmly. He would know full well what she was talking about, and she had decided this would be the best way to get his attention.

Sure enough, his head snapped up and he looked to the open door. Flourishing his wand, he shut it with magic before putting up a charm to keep their conversation private. He looked back to her, glaring.

"And what makes you think my answer will be any different this time?" he asked. _How dare she ask a second time?_ he thought to himself. _Didn't I make myself perfectly clear last year?_

"Because you need something to take your mind off of the world," Rebecca said, boldly looking into his eyes, her Occlumency defenses already up. There wasn't a moment that went by that she didn't have them up; she would take no risks this year.

His eyes narrowed. "You know too much, Miss Felan," he growled. "Both magically and literally."

"Sir, I only want to help," Rebecca said, her voice even.

"And you think extra lessons will help my burden?" he asked, sneering.

"If not that, then I can help you grade your essays, tidy up your office, anything," Rebecca said, her voice lowering.

"I would never allow a student to touch the essays I've assigned, Miss Felan, you should know better than to even ask."

He turned to the board and flicked his wand. It began to clear of the notes. Rebecca watched, frustrated. These were part of her orders, to help Professor Snape, but he would not let her in. She sighed.

"I'm sorry, professor," she said quietly.

He turned around to face her. "Excuse me, Miss Felan?"

"I would like to apologize for yelling at you at the end of last term," Rebecca continued, her voice growing stronger. "I never did before I got on the train for home, and I believe you deserve an apology. I was out of line."

Severus stared at the girl. What was she playing at? Certainly this wasn't some ploy to get him to agree. He would never think her Slytherin enough for that type of plan.

"I was too hasty in my Legilimency that night," he responded flippantly. "But you are forgiven, Miss Felan."

Rebecca nodded.

She was still standing in front of him. So it wasn't a ploy, her apology, which meant it was truthful. She had actually wanted to apologize to him.

"What do you want, Miss Felan?"

His patience was growing short. He had always tried to give the girl more leeway than the other students because of her position in Slytherin, her blood, in the Order, and because of her resemblance to Lily. As of late, though, she was becoming increasingly taxing on his nerves. It appeared that she knew it, too, from the way she shifted her weight while she was around him.

"To make sure you get through this," she whispered.

Severus leaned over his desk, hands bracing him. She started at the suddenness of his new position, as his nose was now just an inch from her own. Though she flinched and grasped more tightly at her books, the rest of her remained unmoving, staring into his own glaring eyes neutrally.

"Miss Felan, I am quite capable of going through with the orders I have been given," he snapped. "And I have been able to do so without a certain know-it-all Slytherin with the heart of a Gryffindor to aid me." He sneered at her, but she remained unchanged. This annoyed him even further. "You will go and tell Albus to relieve you of any orders he may have stupidly given you to help me, for they are unwanted and unneeded. Is that understood, Miss Felan?"

She did not respond.

"Well?"

"I owe you a Life Debt, Professor Snape," she told him very evenly. "My magic will not allow me to leave you in peace, even if that's what you want."

Damn, he had forgotten about the Life Debt.

"Even if I didn't owe you a Life Debt, I couldn't leave you to bear this on your own," Rebecca admitted.

That caused Severus some pause. He considered the girl in front of him carefully. What was this that she was telling him?

"Despite what everyone else thinks of you, sir, I know that you are a good person underneath the exterior you pose to everyone," she continued. "You are good and strong, and even if you tell yourself constantly that you do not need assistance in your orders, everyone needs a friend, or at least someone whom they trust enough to talk to. Even if I can't be either of those things, I can be someone who knows about your burden and who can empathize."

Severus was utterly dumbfounded. All anger he had was completely gone, only to be left with confusion and disbelief.

"And I'm not going anywhere until you agree to my Legilimency lessons," Rebecca said, smirking in perfect imitation of himself.

Severus rolled his eyes, sighing. He stared at her for a long moment before putting on his best terrifying expression. She appeared nonplussed, and this only caused his irritation to heighten. There would be words between he and Albus. Many harsh words.

"Fine, you insufferable chit," he grumbled. "We will meet twice a week until further notice. Tuesday and Thursday evenings directly after dinner until eight, more or less time if needed. You may tell your friends you are my new" –He narrowed his eyes.— "_teaching assistant_ so they will not become suspicious."

Rebecca smiled. "Thank you, sir," she said.

With that, Severus watched as she flounced—_flounced!_—out of his classroom. He glared after her. Felan would be the death of him.

* * *

_Legilimency Lessons, early-mid September 1996_

Rebecca made her way from the Great Hall up to Professor Snape's new office, which was closer to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. This proved for a slightly longer trek, but it also gave her time to think about the days' occurrences. Double Potions today had been interesting. Slughorn had her in his sights the entirety of class, but it was Hermione and Harry who had stolen the show, with Rebecca only adding to Hermione's knowledge about the potions they were asked to identify.

"_Anyone tell me what this one is?" Slughorn asked._

_Hermione's well-practiced hand hit the air before anybody else's; Slughorn pointed at her._

"_It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione._

_Rebecca waited patiently with her hand up._

"_Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. He was about to turn to the next potion when he spied Rebecca's hand. "Yes, Miss Felan?" he asked, a bit confused._

"_It is not always as effective as it seems, sir," Rebecca said simply._

_Slughorn's smile returned immediately. "Please continue, Miss Felan."_

"_Veritaserum is not used during trials because it can be easily broken by someone who is trained in the Dark Arts of Occlumency or Legilimency, or by someone who has simply built up a resistance to the potion," Rebecca said._

"_Absolutely correct, Miss Felan!" Slughorn said, beaming._

_When they reached the Amortentia, after answering a few questions about the Polyjuice Potion, Slughorn looked expectantly at Rebecca, who remained quiet and pensive. She, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ernie Macmillan, the only Hufflepuff in the room who they knew from Dumbledore's Army, were sitting closest to this potion, and Rebecca had been trying to place the smell emitting from it. Certainly she knew it was only her that could smell this distinct smell, so there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but it did concern her._

"_Miss Felan?" Slughorn asked._

_Rebecca's head shot up suddenly. She didn't know she'd been called._

"_Would you care to enlighten us anymore about Amortentia?" he asked hopefully._

"_I believe Hermione answered everything quite succinctly, sir," Rebecca said, smiling at her friend._

"_Very well, then," Slughorn said, trying to sound cheerful, but looking a bit disappointed. "Perhaps you would share what the potion smells like to you, Miss Felan?"_

"_The old books in the library," Rebecca said immediately. "And Ron's mum's cooking."_

_She gave the red-head a smile, and that brought some laughter to the classroom._

"_All right, settle down, now," Slughorn said. "The next potion…"_

Rebecca was only half-lying with that one, she told herself to not feel so bad. Those were two of the things that she smelled while sitting around the potion. The other she could only place when she was walking out of the classroom. It had bothered her all class period and had allowed Harry to make the Draught of Peace potion the fastest, though Rebecca herself wasn't far behind on auto-pilot.

That's when she realized the rest of the potion smelled like the handkerchief Professor Snape had given to her last year after she'd been attacked: it smelled of aconite and some sort of aftershave, she was certain. She tried not to think about it too much, but it bothered her. It was a type of security to her; it let her know that she wasn't alone in those times when her charm wore off and she had to stare at the scar on her arm. But were there further implications to this?

She had to stop thinking about this, as she was standing in front of his office. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out, she cleared her mind instantly. That had taken a lot of practice, and she was proud she was able to do it so quickly now. In place of her thoughts, her Occlumency went up like a Shield Charm around her mind. Feeling perfectly at ease now, Rebecca knocked on the door.

"Enter," she heard from within.

She opened the door and stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Immediately, charms went up as she did so to keep their conversation private. Rebecca was accustomed to this, so it did not give her too much pause.

"How were your classes today, Professor Snape?" she asked politely.

"There are the same level of dunderheads as usual," he said, looking up from the parchments on his desk. His usual sneer was upon his face. "I have a question for you, Miss Felan, about how your Potions class went today, as I had an interesting conversation with Horace tonight at dinner."

He indicated the chair in front of his desk, and Rebecca moved forward to sit down. She felt more comfortable sitting anyway, especially if this were to be a long conversation.

"It appears Horace assigned the Draught of Peace today," he continued.

"That's correct, sir."

He nodded. "What surprised me, Miss Felan, is that you were not the first to finish," he said slowly. "Not even Granger was the first to finish. Somehow, Potter was."

"I was distracted, sir," Rebecca said.

"I can only imagine so, or suddenly Potter has gotten very good at Potions where as you are slipping in your studies."

"I'll be certain to pay more attention next time, sir," Rebecca said with a slight incline of her head. It felt as though she were being punished at not being the best. It was a strange feeling.

"If this trend continues, I may have to ask you to spy more heavily on Potter."

"He could have studied more over the summer," Rebecca said with a dismissive shrug.

Severus stared evenly at the girl. "I find that highly unlikely, Miss Felan."

Rebecca sighed. It had sounded like a lame excuse to her, too. "I'll try and keep an eye out, sir."

"Good," he said, rising from his seat. "I noticed earlier in class that your nonverbal spells are getting stronger. During these lessons, we'll continue along that route, as well as wandless magic." He raised an eyebrow and turned to her. "I assume that will not be a problem for you?"

"Of course not," Rebecca said, beaming.

She thought she saw a smirk of amusement cross his lips, but it went away just as quickly as he approached her. He placed his wand on the desk. She did the same.

"We will begin with Legilimency for tonight, since that is the whole point of your being here," he said, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Tell me, Miss Felan, and try not to recite word-for-word, what Legilimency is."

"It's the art of navigating through someone's mind and being able to correctly interpret what you may find there," Rebecca said, trying to put it into her own words.

"Yes," Snape said, nodding. "There are many different ways to perform Legilimency. For example, there are a few known Legilimens in this world: myself, Albus, Bellatrix Lestrange, and, of course, the Dark Lord. Because we are skilled and have studied this art for so long, we are able to use Legilimency wandlessly and nonverbally. Once you begin, Miss Felan, you must recite the incantation and have your wand pointed at your subjects head."

"The incantation being _Legilimens_," Rebecca said.

"Yes, Miss Felan, and do not interrupt me," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"My apologies, sir."

"A skilled Legilimens can tell if a person is lying," Professor Snape continued. "This you have witnessed and were able to counteract with the Dark Lord. What you also witnessed is something only the Dark Lord is known to have been able to do: influence a mind and then possess it. Questions?" he asked suddenly.

"No, sir."

"The other, finer points of Legilimency are being able to influence one's own mind as well as others' by way of their memories," Professor Snape continued in his lecture-voice. "Meaning that a skilled Legilimens can create memories from pre-existing ones, change memories to suit their need, or even fabricate memories altogether."

Severus saw the girl begin to squirm ever so slightly, though it was only for a moment. He sighed heavily.

"I see that you _now_ have a question."

"Are you able to do that, sir?"

"That is, in fact, how I've remained alive all this time, along with my skills in Occlumency," Severus drawled, as if the point was uninteresting.

"Will you teach me how to as well?"

"You must learn to walk before you can run, Miss Felan," he said, standing. "Take up your wand." He motioned to it laying on his desk.

Rebecca took it up quickly, waiting for her next order. His answer had been neither in the positive nor the negative. Certainly if she proved herself he would teach her how to modify people's memories.

"Is your mind clear, Miss Felan?"

"Very much, sir."

"As I expected," he said. "This will be significantly easier because of your skills in Occlumency."

"That's a relief," Rebecca muttered.

Severus actually snorted, and she looked at him with surprise. He supposed he'd never shown much sign of amusement while around her. Indeed, there weren't many occasions where he was amused. Despite how annoying she could be sometimes, Severus found Felan to be rather a pleasure to teach, if only because of how easily she picked up on things, even the hardest of subjects.

"This art, like Occlumency, is mostly about intent," Severus continued, lest she start asking more questions. "Your intent is to penetrate my mind."

"Your mind, sir?" Rebecca asked, confidence waning.

"Do you see another person in this room, Miss Felan?"

Rebecca shook her head.

"You will be unable to break through my Occlumency for quite some time, Miss Felan, so there's nothing to fear," Severus told her. It would be his turn to fear the day she would be able to. There would be no telling what she would search for, what she would be able to see, then. "Your intention, so you may have something to guide you, is to see my thoughts—my present thoughts. This is an art of will, Miss Felan, and yours must be strong if you wish to master this."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you ready?"

Rebecca pointed her wand slowly at his head in response to his question. Severus settled himself again on the edge of his desk.

"Proceed," he said, almost sounding bored. He cleared his mind and allowed his Occlumency to take effect.

There was a long pause, and he wondered what Felan was doing. She merely held her place and stared at him.

"_Legilimens_," she said suddenly.

It was a good first effort, Severus had to admit. He could actually feel her trying to invade his thoughts, but it was no use. Rebecca was only able to hold out for half a minute before dropping her wand arm and breaking their eye contact. She did not, however, feel as fatigued by this as she had by her first Occlumency lessons, so that helped her a bit.

"Good," Professor Snape told her, nodding approvingly. "Once you've rested a moment, again."

He crossed his arms over his chest, preparing himself again for her attempt. Rebecca took only half a moment's pause, not wanting to lose her concentration and the already calm state she had achieved.

"_Legilimens_," she whispered, all her focus on the professor's thoughts.

She waited, but after a moment, there was nothing. She dropped her arm more quickly this time, and the fatigue began. She turned away from him, trying to get ahold of her mind, which was now starting to go in its different directions, trying to discern why this was so difficult. Once she had calmed down, she turned back to face him.

"Again," he said.

These were how the next few lessons went. It wasn't until the fourth two-hour lesson the next week that she could begin to see his thoughts. Instead of praise, he made her stay late until she could clearly see his thoughts. Then he dismissed her.

"You will be a Legilimens yet, Miss Felan," were his parting words to her.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," she replied, able to smile.

* * *

_First Slug Club Dinner, mid-September 1996_

Rebecca was cornered by Slughorn in the hallway with Harry, Ron, and Hermione one day and invited to dinner that night in his quarters. Hermione and Rebecca grudgingly accepted, though Rebecca was able to hide it a bit better. Slughorn was a bit taxing sometimes, but he could potentially be a good ally. Harry, on the other hand, could not make it due to his detention with Professor Snape.

Ron wasn't happy about Hermione and Rebecca going, but Rebecca told him it was for the better that he didn't have to go.

"At least you'll have more time to study that way," she muttered darkly under her breath.

"Not that you need the extra studying," Ron replied angrily. "Nonverbal spells are a lot easier for you and 'Mione than they are for me and Harry."

"Honestly, Ron, if you could learn to _focus_," Hermione said, "everything would be fine."

That started the two of them into another of their debates. Harry and Rebecca gave each other a tired look. It was clear to Rebecca, and now it seemed to Harry, too, that Ron and Hermione really did like one another as more than best friends, but neither was going to admit it. This was going to be a long year if this kept up.

"I'll see you lot later," Rebecca said. "I'm going to study before dinner with Slughorn."

Only Harry bid her goodbye; Ron and Hermione were too deep in their own argument.

Rebecca was the first to get to Slughorn's dinner party that night, and that was merely awkward, to say the least.

"I'd just like to compliment you on how well you've been performing in Potions, Miss Felan," Slughorn said after having her take a seat at the table that was set up for the rest of the guests. "Although it looks like you're struggling next to Mr. Potter," he added jovially.

Rebecca gave a forced smile. That was something she was still trying to understand, but comprehension was slowly dawning upon her in that respect.

"Would you like anything to drink, Miss Felan?"

"Some water is fine," Rebecca said amiably.

The glass before her filled immediately. The house elves were scary in their magical abilities, sometimes. This was one of the reasons Rebecca would never treat any of them with disrespect. Rebecca took up the glass gingerly and took a sip.

"I've heard many good things about you, Miss Felan."

"As you've said before, Professor Slughorn," Rebecca said, placing her glass back on the table in the exact place she had gotten it from. "What 'things' have you been told, exactly, sir?"

The girl turned his gaze upon him, then, and Horace felt as though her entire being was trying to impress itself upon him. It was quite extraordinary.

"That you are a very committed student," he replied easily, "that you surpass your peers in many regards, and that your O.W.L. scores were only just behind Miss Hermione Granger's, apparently your only rival in brains."

"I'm certain there are many other students who could rival or surpass my intelligence," Rebecca said with a roll of her eyes.

"You've also been described as exceedingly humble," Slughorn said with a smile.

Rebecca sighed quietly, reaching for her glass again.

"However, I gather that there's more to you than meets the eye, as there usually is with most Slytherins," Slughorn said. He picked up the wine that was before him and took a long drink, leaving Rebecca to watch him from the corner of her eyes.

She kept her features neutral, Horace noticed. She was clearly trained; no muggle student knew how to do that, no matter how long they had been in Slytherin. Severus was evidently closer to the girl than he let on.

"Ah, Mr. Zabini, good of you to join us," Horace said as the door opened and in stepped another promising Slytherin student.

Zabini gave Rebecca a sneer, but Slughorn didn't seem to notice, as he was making his way toward the boy. Rebecca could only silently hope the new Potions Master would not seat Zabini next to her. Luckily, Slughorn sat Zabini across the table from Rebecca, leaving room around her for Hermione and Ginny, much more welcome company than her fellow Slytherin could ever be.

The rest of the dinner dragged on, with questions about relatives Slughorn had taught before being thrown at the appropriate students. Cormac McLaggen looked smug as usual, in his seat next to Hermione. Her friend complained in whispers of his lack of manners. She, Hermione and Ginny had to answer particular questions every once in a while, but Rebecca noticed Slughorn giving her side-long glances. This was irritating, to say the least. He knew something was different about her, that much was true. She would have to mention this to Albus.

With dinner finally over, Rebecca bid goodnight to her friends in the corridors outside of Slughorn's office.

"I just hope Ron isn't still up when we get back," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.

"He said he was going to sleep earlier," Ginny told her.

"You two should try to stop fighting so much," Rebecca said, trying to hide her exasperation.

"Yes, but that would require Ronald having more tact than he currently does."

Ginny smirked in silent agreement.

"Hermione's just cranky because the Slug Club kept her from her homework," Ginny teased.

Hermione chuckled. "I suppose that's the case," she said. "Good night, Becca, see you tomorrow morning."

"Good night, you two," Rebecca said, waving as the Gryffindors made their way up the stairs. She turned back to her own common room.

* * *

_Meeting with Snape and Dumbledore, mid-October 1996_

"There are a couple of concerns I have," Rebecca said as she approached the chair by the fire in the Headmaster's office once more. The two men were already seated, waiting for her arrival.

Albus nodded his head in ascent, allowing Rebecca to continue. Severus watched her from his chair, noting how much more mature she had become over this past year. Not that she had not been mature before, but she was clearly growing into her personality. Albus had mentioned it to him just before she had arrived, and he could understand it, but in their private meetings he could truly tell it. She acted the part of spy much better than she believed she did. She was an excellent student, an Order spy, friend of the Golden Trio, a muggleborn Slytherin, and the _best_ Slytherin he had seen in all his years.

Rebecca was now comfortably in the chair, folding her hands in her lap. "Harry's sudden prowess in Potions has finally been revealed," she said carefully. "He has an older copy, previously used, of _Advanced Potion-Making_ Professor Slughorn gave him the first day of class. It's signed by someone who calls him or herself the Half-Blood Prince. Harry hasn't given it up for a newer edition, though Hermione's been telling him to do so."

Severus felt his blood run cold, but kept his face neutral. He saw Albus give him a look, and he merely nodded.

"Continue, Rebecca," Albus said, looking once more to the girl.

"The book has very powerful spells in it," she said. "There are some I've never heard of before, even after I've done research on them in the library. I'm afraid it could be dangerous for Harry, as he's not one to think before he acts the majority of the time, unfortunately."

Severus scoffed.

"Do what you can to get the book from him without drawing suspicion to yourself, Rebecca," Albus said evenly.

Rebecca nodded.

"Your other concerns?" Severus asked.

"Professor Slughorn," Rebecca said. "I'm afraid he might know about my position in the Order."

"That _would_ be very unusual, considering Horace isn't an Order member," Albus said.

"Yes, but Horace has been known to be observant when the time calls for it," Severus added.

"True," Albus agreed, looking from Severus to Rebecca. "You are in his club, I have gathered from the rumors around the school."

"Yes, Albus, but it's rather harmless," Rebecca said. "It's as though he's collecting us."

"Precisely," Albus said, smiling. "Horace enjoys knowing all sorts of people in power. It allows him to live comfortably for the most part, and satisfies the hoarder in him that all of us have."

Rebecca grimaced at the thought. "I've been amiable enough; I'm not stupid enough to deny an ally where there is potential for one."

"And very rightly so of you, Rebecca," Albus said, nodding his approval.

A spy for sure, Severus thought.

"Should we inform Horace of Rebecca's special position in the school?" Severus asked, his eyes leaving his Slytherin for a brief moment to glance at the Headmaster. "He is not loyal to the Dark Lord, that is for certain, and perhaps he would be willing to cover for Miss Felan if there is an occasion for it. He will, of course, have to perform an Unbreakable Vow."

"Yes, just like the other professors who know," Albus said, then looked quickly to Rebecca. "Don't worry, my dear, only the Heads of Houses and myself know, adding Horace would not compromise you."

"I understand," Rebecca said, reassured.

"I will call for him before this meeting is over and we will explain your spying duties to him," Albus said. "Did you have any other concerns?"

"Draco Malfoy."

Severus swore quietly under his breath, but Rebecca heard him. She faced him now.

"Surely you're concerned with how obvious he's being, professor?" she asked her mentor.

"Very," Severus said with a sneer. "The boy continues to rebuke me when I attempt to help him. He is an arrogant fool."

"Aren't we all at that age?" Albus asked fondly.

"I rather resent that comment, Albus," Rebecca said neutrally, glancing at the Headmaster.

"My apologies, Rebecca, I forget your age sometimes," Albus said with a smile.

"Albus, what should be done about Draco?" Severus pressed.

"Rebecca, your other priority, besides getting that Potions book away from Harry, is to follow Draco closely."

"That will merely make him careless," Severus hissed, glaring at Albus. "It will pressure him."

"Exactly my point," Albus said. "If he feels pressured enough, he will come to you, Severus."

Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You better be right, Albus."

"Being— forgive me, Rebecca— far cleverer than the average person gives me an advantage on occasion, Severus," Albus said cheerily.

Rebecca couldn't help but smile.

"And now," Albus continued, "to call Horace."

The Headmaster turned to the fireplace and tossed in some Floo powder, calling for Slughorn's office. Severus and Rebecca waited patiently by as the connection was made.

"Good evening, Horace," they heard Albus said, his head in the fire. "I'd like for you to come through. I'd like to talk to you about something."

Albus removed his head from the fireplace and dusted himself off. Only a moment later, Slughorn came through.

"Whatever could it be now, Albus?" he asked a bit shortly.

Rebecca was sitting in a near perfect imitation of Professor Snape, gazing directly at the new Potions Master through steepled fingers; only her legs were crossed, whereas his were planted firmly on the floor, and her look was not nearly as severe. Slughorn noticed her almost instantly.

"Miss Felan, what brings you here this evening?"

Rebecca quirked an eyebrow up to Albus, who spoke for her.

"Rebecca has informed me that you've taken a great interest in her, Horace," Albus said with a smile. "I'd like to thank you for taking her under your wing, but you'll find that she is already under enough wings as it is."

Horace furrowed his brows. So he was right.

"Now, before I allow Rebecca to inform you of her duties, I must ask you to make the Vow, Horace," Albus continued.

Slughorn looked between Albus to Miss Felan, then to Severus. The Slytherins were revealing nothing in their look.

"It's that serious, is it?" Horace asked, his voice barely coming out above a whisper.

Albus nodded. "That it is, Horace. We would like to keep Miss Felan as safe as possible, you must understand. Few people know about her, and that is a few too many."

Slughorn nodded absently. "Of course, Albus," he said, looking at this young girl whose expression was completely neutral. He had known she was much more powerful than she let on, but here she did not need to pretend. He could practically see the magic radiate around her, though she was reserved. It must have been a sight to watch her duel.

Suddenly, he beamed.

"I'm quite glad to know you, Miss Felan, as I expect you will do a great many things in your life."

"Thank you, sir," Rebecca said with a little nod of her head.

She and Professor Snape sat by as Slughorn performed the Unbreakable Vow. Afterward, both he and Albus took a seat near the fire.

"Rebecca, if you would," Albus said, motioning to her.

She broke her neutral expression and sat forward to be able to see Slughorn clearly.

"I'm a spy for the Order," she said plainly.

Slughorn's expression widened: his eyes got bigger, his mouth dropped, and his entire face looked about twice its normal size.

"No reason to look like a fish out of water, Horace," Albus said, leaning over to bump the man on the chin.

Horace closed his mouth quickly. Severus smirked, his features hidden a bit in the shadows the fire created.

"Please, Rebecca, go on," Albus encouraged.

"I began my training in the summer before my fifth year," Rebecca said. "During that time, Professor Snape and Alastor helped to train me in how to be a proper spy and how to defend myself."

"Alastor Moody?" Slughorn asked. "The retired Auror?"

"Yes, sir, he and I respect one another quite a bit, you must understand," Rebecca said. She knew how to play this game, and Slughorn was the perfect unknowing victim. "I know how to duel properly, am still working on nonverbal and wandless magic. With that said, I've also somewhat mastered the art of Occlumency and am currently beginning my training in Legilimency."

"Miss Felan, you have mastered Occlumency," Severus interrupted. "Do not underrate your talents, not when you have bested the Dark Lord."

"T-the Dark Lord?" Slughorn stuttered.

"I have encountered Tom Riddle once before," Rebecca said, her expression growing dark. "Last term, my fifth year. Fenrir Greyback took me to him. He questioned me on being a spy. I was able to thwart his Legilimency and withstand his Cruciatus. I bear my own marks to prove it, courtesy of Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Merlin," Slughorn whispered.

"That being said, I have provided, into the double digits, safety to students of all Houses whose families are sympathetic to Tom's cause but who are not themselves interested in fighting Tom's war," Rebecca continued. "They would speak to me and I would put them into contact with Albus, who would then find an Order safe house for them. So far, Tom has not been able to locate any of them."

"This certainly teaches me to never judge a book by its cover again," Slughorn said seriously. "You are very well put-together, Miss Felan, despite what you've been through."

Rebecca smirked. "You couldn't begin to understand how wrong your statement is, sir," she said. "However, winning a trophy from Bellatrix has been helpful."

She pulled out the dagger and held it out to Slughorn, who took it gingerly. Severus was amused with his Slytherin's actions. She was toying with Slughorn, was making certain that he would be her devoted servant should she choose. That didn't mean that he wouldn't take to heart her previous statement: she was certainly not okay, and she readily admitted it. Albus had looked concerned at that confession, as well, but both men kept quiet.

"That is a Black family knife that Bellatrix used on me last year," Rebecca said as Slughorn examined it.

"I've heard of this knife," Horace said with wonder, staring at the object. He looked up to Miss Felan. "You're lucky to have survived it."

He handed it back to her. That's when Rebecca dropped the charm. This would solidify Slughorn to their cause, she was certain of it.

The new Potions Master gasped, but quickly silenced it.

"In order to send Albus a message about students wandering out of doors after hours, Tom ordered Bellatrix to carve the Dark Mark onto my body," Rebecca said.

She brandished her left forearm, and Slughorn looked as though he would be sick.

"I have five of them," Rebecca said neutrally. To show off somewhat, and to prove that what she said was true, Rebecca placed the charm back upon her body with a slight flourishing of her wand, though she said nothing. She put both the wand and the dagger back.

"You have thoroughly convinced me, Miss Felan," Horace said. "If there is ever anything I can do to help you, in any way, please let me know. I am at your service."

"Thank you, Professor Slughorn," Rebecca said, inclining her head once more. "I truly appreciate it."

Severus would have laughed if he could. Horace had played directly into Rebecca's hands, just as the girl had wanted him to. It was terrifying how easily she picked up on the Slytherin games.

"I must return to my dorm," Rebecca said, standing. "I have some studying to do for class tomorrow."

"You may be dismissed, Rebecca," Albus said. "Good night."

"Our lesson is at the same time next week, Miss Felan," Severus said.

"Good night, professors," Rebecca said before exiting.

* * *

_Legilimency Lesson, late October 1996_

"You're late, Miss Felan," Severus said with a glare toward his quickly opening office door.

Rebecca entered, out of breath, and shut the door behind her.

"Sorry, sir, but Draco was following me," she explained. "I was tailing him after dinner, just to see what he was doing. He saw me and started pursuing me. I wanted to lose him instead of leading him here. He might have thought it was planned."

Severus gave a curt nod. "Excused, in that case, since you were following Albus' orders," he said with a wave of his hand.

He was eager for her to get started. Her Legilimency lessons gave him something to look forward to, in a way. It gave him a break from grading terrible essays and homework assignments, as well as worrying over Albus' physical health and what was to come at the end of term. And it certainly allowed his mind off of Draco, since she was supposed to be helping him on that front.

"Let us begin immediately, Miss Felan, where we left off last time," he said, taking a seat behind his desk.

He waited for her to sit across from him. In their lesson earlier in the week, she had been attempting to actually penetrate beyond his conscious thoughts and into his memories. She hadn't truly come close to succeeding. Severus knew she felt relieved, as she didn't want to intrude. He thought this was hindering her, and he needed to think of a way to break down that barrier of worry.

"I found our meeting with Horace to be quite intriguing," Severus said, mentioning it as if an afterthought, as he watched her seat herself.

"And why is that, sir?" Rebecca said, taking off her robe and placing it across the back of the chair. The amount of concentration, and after two hours, tended to make her uncomfortable with her own rising body temperature.

"Because of your admittance to your own mental state."

That was not what Rebecca expected. She thought he would at least comment on her winning over Slughorn.

"I'm fine," Rebecca said flatly, taking her seat a bit roughly.

"You are not," Severus replied, anger steadily rising. "I will accept no more lies from my protégé, Miss Felan."

Rebecca met his gaze and kept it. "I'm not lying," she said.

Severus slammed his palms onto his desk, making Rebecca jump, though she retained her seat. He stood from his chair and began to approach her. Rebecca shivered slightly, but made no move away from him.

"You may think that because you can lie to the Dark Lord that you can lie to me," Severus practically snarled as he came toward her. "But I know you much better than he, Miss Felan. You have lied to me once and that was the first and only time I will allow it."

"Then permit me to request no lies from yourself, sir," Rebecca said, arms defiantly crossed over her chest as she stared down her mentor from her seated position.

"Do not think that we are equal in this relationship, Miss Felan," he growled.

Rebecca froze at his words. "You sound like _him_ when you say that," she muttered, faltering in her gaze for only a moment. She looked to the floor, then back up to him.

Rebecca could feel the panic building up, just as it always did when she recalled the memory too closely. It was not nearly as bad as it had been, but it was still extremely uncomfortable to be in close quarters with anyone when they were upset, particularly Professor Snape, who could become upset in spectacular ways. She levitated her chair without saying a word and moved it from him a few inches, feeling better now that there was space between them.

Severus was taken aback for a moment. Whom did she mean? he pondered for only half a second. Then he saw the look on her face. It was almost enough to make him back away from this fight, especially when she levitated her chair away from him.

But he could not give up. She would not be able to learn anything if she was in this sort of mood.

"I will _not_ coddle you like Molly Weasley," he said, taking a step toward her once more. "If you expect to be able to continue your role as a spy, you must be able to learn to overcome the obstacles that memory presents for you."

Rebecca stood now, knowing that she should not be afraid of him. He had promised that night that he wouldn't allow any harm to come of her because of him. That meant that he wouldn't lay a hand on her physically or magically. Right? She couldn't be quite certain, and it made her feel vulnerable to be sitting.

"Do I have to spell it out as Umbridge had to do with Potter?" Severus continued, seeing that he was getting under her skin. If he could get her to focus her energy toward learning Legilimency without holding back, that would be something. "I want no lies from you, Miss Felan."

"That was uncalled for, sir," Rebecca said. It had hurt terribly to watch her best friend silently take the undeserved punishment from that toad of a woman. Rebecca had vowed that she would curse Umbridge if she ever received the opportunity to in the future, if for no other reason than for what she did to Harry.

"That is not for you to determine, Miss Felan; I am the professor," Severus snapped.

Rebecca looked to the floor of the office, unable to stand his gaze any longer. She tried to master the growing anger inside of her.

"As I was saying," Severus began again, "though you may think very highly of yourself for having bested the Dark Lord and even, perhaps, Horace Slughorn, there are those who would be able to see through you in a second. The Dark Lord, if he were to spend a minute with you in your current state of fear, wouldn't even bother to torture you. Do you know why, Miss Felan?"

He paused to see if she would answer, but she did not. She would not even look at him. He saw her fists clenching on her upper arms. He continued.

"Because you would be uninteresting. You would be just as any other kill to him: afraid and avoidant, like the defenseless muggles he kills for sport."

Rebecca knew that what he said was not true. She had shown no fear of Tom Riddle, and he had spared her life as a result. This had to mean something.

"You're wrong," she said, her stare even though her voice showed her repressed fury.

"You have not proven otherwise," Severus said, taking another step toward her.

Rebecca held her ground, her other emotions overtaking the want to flee. "I'm not afraid," she said, hand creeping toward her wand in her pocket. She found it and grasped its hilt.

Severus saw the slight movement and knew he had her. "I see a terrified girl before me, Miss Felan, even your eyes say it." Not entirely so, since her green eyes were practically dancing with the ire her body language was showing.

"Now you're lying, Professor Snape."

"Prove it," he said, taking one final step toward her.

Rebecca had had enough of whatever game he was trying to play. She whipped out her wand and pointed it at him; the tip of it nearly touched his forehead.

"_Legilimens_!" she said.

Severus felt the force behind the spell and nearly stepped back, but his gaze was pulled to hers magically. He felt her in his mind, knew which twists and turns she was taking through his maze in order to reach his memories. The strange part was, Severus discovered, he could not stop her no matter how hard he tried. Her focus was so great that it overcame all boundaries Severus had ever put in his mind. He was frightened of the power, but felt triumphant in forcing her to overcome her reservations.

Rebecca was being driven by her need to prove him wrong; she would find his memories through this giant maze that was his mind, his way of protecting himself. Finally, she discovered where his memories were kept. At random, she thrust her focus in a direction and grasped onto one. It played before her eyes.

_Where is Felan? Severus thought as he gaze swept around the nearly full common room. She was always near the fire or some corner with a candle writing her essays or studying. But she was nowhere to be found. Upon inquiry, no Slytherin he asked, not even the most observant ones, had noticed her enter that night after dinner in the Great Hall._

_That was when the adrenaline began to rush and his heart began to pump faster than he had felt it so in many years. He quickly left the Slytherin common room to call to the other professors so the search for her could begin. He encountered the Bloody Baron out in the hall and sounded the alarm._

"_Baron, I must ask a favor of you."_

"_Severus, you seem out of sorts," the Baron said neutrally in his gravelly voice. _

"_I need you to deliver a message to the Headmaster," Severus continued._

"_The message?"_

"_Miss Felan is missing. All professors except Umbridge should be on alert for her," Severus said evenly and quietly._

_The Baron stared at him for a moment, as if seeing into his mind, before turning and disappearing through the nearest wall. That was when Severus began his frantic searching through the dungeons._

_What if she is caught? he thought as he looked in all of the rooms, even warded ones, with no luck in finding her. What if she is being tortured at this very moment? He rounded the next corner just after this thought and gave a shout of frustration, throwing his fist at the wall before continuing on his search._

_In the Entrance Hall, he met up with Minerva. She approached him quickly, looking very concerned, but her expression turned to shock in a mere moment._

"_Severus, what happened to your hand?" _

_Severus glanced down, seeing that his knuckles were slightly out of place and had open wounds upon them. He took out his wand and muttered a healing spell. His hand looked much better, and the knuckles were now reset in their places._

"_Never mind," he muttered. "What is the status?"_

"_I've searched the Gryffindor common room as well as the girls' _and_ boys' dormitories," she said quickly, sounding a bit out of breath. "Miss Felan is not there. Filius and Pomona are searching their levels of the castle, but she wasn't close with anyone in their Houses, so she could not have gotten into their common rooms. The other professors were left out of the matter, not knowing how problematic this situation is. Albus has his own ways of looking about the castle as Headmaster. There's been no luck yet."_

_Severus' frown deepened._

"_Why would she not come back to the Slytherin common room?" Minerva asked as if to herself. "She certainly knows better than to run around after curfew."_

_Severus felt a wave of guilt pass over him. It was his fault she was not in the common room; his fault that she was wherever she was now. If she didn't get through this, it would be just like his betrayal of Lily to the Dark Lord._

"_Merlin, Severus, do you think she went on the grounds?" Minerva asked suddenly._

_Severus tuned back into the conversation. "I will look for her there," he said with a curt nod. "Keep looking, Minerva, we must find her."_

"_She'll turn up, Severus," Minerva said to the man's now retreating back._

_Severus searched the grounds, Disillusioned, around the castle and the lake, the entire time suffering with guilt and fear for the worst. Suddenly, he heard a familiar "pop" when he was approaching the lake. There were so many memories this place brought back for him, namely the time when he lost the only friendship he had ever had._

_He approached cautiously despite his invisible state, wand drawn. Then he saw the lump of robes on the ground just beneath the tree where everything had occurred all those years ago. A Slytherin tie lay outstretched from the robes. Her vibrant red hair was messed and thrown about. Her left arm lay stretched out from her body, still holding onto her wand tightly, exposing her inner forearm. _

_As Severus neared, he saw the Dark Mark carved into her skin there, on her arm. He gasped and dropped to his knees. That's when her head moved. She was conscious after all of this! He was elated, yet frightened all at once. _

"_Who's there?" she asked, her voice shaky and barely audible._

_He removed his charm so she could see him. The look upon her face was one of pure relief._

"_Professor Snape," she whispered, letting her head fall back to the ground. _

"_Do not speak, Miss Felan, I must get you to the Infirmary," Severus said quickly._

_Without thinking, Severus began to pick her up, needing the comfort of his contact with her to reassure himself that she was still alive._

"_I will Disillusion the both of us so Umbridge does not see us." _

_My fault. Get her to Poppy—she can fix her. My fault, just like with Lily. Get her safe, protect her. My fault…_

The memory ended abruptly. It hadn't taken very long to play out, as time was a different experience while in the mind. When Severus was no longer aware of Rebecca in his mind, he blinked, bringing the room back into focus.

Rebecca was still only a few feet away from him, though she was breathing a bit heavily from the effort of the spell. She then pulled back from him, beginning to stutter.

"Professor Snape, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean to—"

"Enough, Miss Felan," he said, all the harshness in his voice from earlier gone.

They stared at one another for a long pause before he broke the silence once more.

"There can be no more secrets between us, Miss Felan," he said quietly, allowing her to put together the implications.

No, there couldn't be, she realized. Not if they could both see the others' memories with the simple muttering of an incantation. In his case, Rebecca wouldn't even realize when he was performing Legilimency on her until it was too late. But did this make them equals? Not truly. He was allowing that part unsaid to make her feel better, as a silent way of apologizing for making her remember her time with Voldemort. Professor Snape was not a man for open apologies.

She reached into her pocket and took out the handkerchief that she kept there. Pulling it out, she dabbed the sweat from her forehead.

Severus stood up straight, collecting himself. He met her gaze for a brief moment, curious as to what she was thinking. Then he saw the handkerchief. He remembered giving her one last year, after her attack when she sobbed in front of him. He was surprised she had kept it. She quickly put it away, probably feeling awkward under his gaze.

"Again," he said firmly. "You must learn how to control what you're searching for. Next time, we will work on your subtlety. Eventually you must be able to perform Legilimency without your wand, but considering how long it took you to perform a simple spell without a wand last term, this may take much longer than anticipated."

Rebecca sighed. Still the same snide Professor Snape. She steadied herself, then pointed her wand at him again.

"_Legilimens_."

* * *

_Slug Club Christmas Party, late December 1996_

Rebecca was not one for panicking over a party, but this one was an exception. Just like the Yule Ball back in her fourth year, she found herself without a date, which didn't bother her in the slightest. The dress was not a problem, as she merely transfigured an old one that she had to be more fitting for the occasion. It was a deep green color (she was still Slytherin, after all), and she had some red jewels—cheap things her mother had no longer wanted, definitely not rubies—to go with it. It was festive, she thought with a smirk.

But Slughorn had been pestering her ever since that night in October, especially about having a date join her for his Christmas party. She finally relented, and sent an owl to her only Slytherin friend, Marcus Flint.

He hadn't been exactly nice to her at first, but when he saw how much she was trying, he eventually stood in to be her protector of sorts. And when he needed the extra help in order to graduate in her third year, Rebecca was happy to oblige, seeing as the attacks on her had gone down since their tentative friendship had begun. They'd kept in contact after he'd graduated, sending owls somewhat regularly (at least once a month back-and-forth while she was at school). She didn't think he would agree to it, seeing as he was a Quidditch star now. He played Chaser for the Falmouth Falcons. Rebecca thought it was a perfect fit for his playing style after she read a bit about the team.

Though they hadn't always seen eye-to-eye on things during school or even now, Marcus was a nice person. He didn't agree with Voldemort's view of the world and tried to stay as neutral as possible about the war in general. But she had never asked him a favor of this caliber, which was why she was surprised when he accepted.

She spoke to Albus about the situation, and he granted Marcus access to Hogwarts. She and Professor Snape were to meet him outside the gates and go to the party from there. She arranged to meet her mentor in the Entrance Hall at a quarter to eight, seeing as the party was set to begin at eight o'clock sharp.

This left Rebecca waiting in her dress, extra robes for when they were to go outside to meet Marcus held in her arms at the ready. She felt extremely self-conscious in the form-fitting dress and heels, especially with the make-up on her face. It was entirely not her true nature, but she had to present a certain front to the people who would be at the party and perhaps even to Marcus. She felt as though hitting her head against the wall would relieve some of the pressure building up in her mind. She refrained from doing just that when she heard footsteps approaching from the dungeons.

Severus saw her before she saw him. She looked completely different from how she normally appeared, and he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. That was when she chose to turn to see who was approaching her.

"Miss Felan," he greeted neutrally as usual, though he was struck but how adult she looked with her make-up and jewels. It was not what he was used to.

"Professor Snape," she said with a nod. She sighed. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. It wasn't my intention."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Horace pestered me into joining in the festivities," he said with a sneer. "Albus thought that appearing with you and Flint would help your… budding image."

Rebecca scoffed. "And he says he wouldn't make a good spy," she muttered.

Severus smirked. "We mustn't keep your _date_ waiting, Miss Felan," he said, robes billowing as he walked toward the doors of the school.

Rebecca had to take two steps to his one to keep up with him, her heels clacking incessantly against the stone floor of the castle. She swept the robes around her, thinking of a repelling spell to keep the snow from her.

"I wouldn't necessarily call him a date, sir," she argued.

"There is little else to call him at this point, Miss Felan, when you're using him for his position in the world," Severus said.

"Being a Slytherin is difficult sometimes," Rebecca said, glaring at the ground. "So many games, not enough time or words to explain them."

Severus chuckled quietly. The girl still had much to learn.

They walked to the edge of the wards, Rebecca keeping up with her professor despite her heels. Walking on snow in these shoes was a new and interesting experience, one that she never hoped to repeat. Finally, they reached their destination. Not a moment later, there was the sound of someone Apparating. Marcus Flint was standing before them, looking very put-together in his black dress robes. He smiled.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," he said, looking a bit surprised to see his old Head of House. Then he looked to the girl standing next to the imposing man. "Becca."

Rebecca gave him a smile. "Good to see you again, Marcus, thank you so much for coming," she said.

"Anything for the girl who helped me pass my N.E.W.T.s," Marcus said with a laugh.

He took a few steps toward the two of them, shaking hands with Professor Snape before turning his attention to Rebecca. He held out his arm for her.

Severus wanted to snort, but quickly repressed it. He saw the slight confusion upon Rebecca's face before she finally took the offered arm. Clearly, Flint was already smitten with her new appearance. She didn't seem to catch on that she had attractive qualities when she looked as she usually did, and she was out of her element now for certain. Flint's reaction to her would go unnoticed. For how observant she was, she was terribly dense.

"I've heard a bit about this Slughorn person," Marcus said by way of conversation as they walked toward the castle. "He only invites those he sees the most promise in to his parties."

"We call it the Slug Club," Rebecca told him.

"Horace collects people," Severus said shortly. "Miss Felan has come under his eye because of her associations with a certain Chosen One."

"And her study habits, I'm sure," Marcus added with a look to Rebecca, who blushed slightly.

"Of course," Severus said.

They were soon in the Entrance Hall, where there were already a number of girls waiting for their dates. The trio paused at the doors to the school, under the scrutiny of several gazes. Rebecca cleared her throat to ease some of the silence, taking her hand from Marcus' arm. Then, she removed her robes and shrank them without use of her wand or words and placed them into the small purse she had brought with her. It contained, now, her shrunken robes and wand. It was all she needed. Marcus gave her an impressed look.

Without waiting a moment longer, Severus proceeded forward. Marcus took Rebecca's hand and they followed him.

Rebecca heard the whispers before they were even out of sight. _Felan bagged a Quidditch star_, she could almost hear them say with their sneers firmly in place. _However could that have happened?_

They reached Slughorn's office, which had been magically enlarged. Rebecca imagined it was something similar to what Grimmauld Place did: it was there but not at the same time among the muggle homes. Slughorn approached them at once, as only his other guests from outside of Hogwarts had yet arrived.

"Severus! Miss Felan! So good of you to be so prompt in your arrival!" he said, beaming. He then paused a moment and looked at Marcus. He held out his hand. "And I don't believe we've met, young man."

Horace noted the linked hands between this young gentleman and Miss Felan and felt for certain he was someone well-known, though he hadn't taught him. Perhaps one of his relatives…

"Marcus Flint," the boy said. "And you must be Professor Horace Slughorn."

"That I am, Mr. Flint," Horace said proudly. "You wouldn't happen to be related to an _Ursula_ Flint, would you?"

"She's my great-great grandmother," Marcus said with an amiable nod of his head.

Rebecca kept the smile upon her face, though she really wanted to go hide amongst the crowd. Slughorn was really ridiculous sometimes. She looked to Professor Snape, whose face was neutral, though he rolled his eyes. She smirked before turning back to the conversation.

"I asked Marcus to take time from his busy schedule to come join us tonight," she said.

"Oh? And what is that you do, Mr. Flint?"

"Please, call me Marcus. And I play Chaser for the Falmouth Falcons."

"Oh-ho! A Quidditch star, Miss Felan!" Slughorn said, grinning at her. "I had no idea you were so well-connected!"

"Rebecca helped me out a bit in her third year," Marcus said by way of clarification. "I had some trouble with my N.E.W.T.s."

"Miss Felan was undoubtedly your best choice, then, in that regard," Slughorn said. "Come, let me introduce you around."

Rebecca met her first vampire, Sanguini, who had glanced her up and down for a moment before Marcus had given him a disgusted look. The man who was with the vampire, a Mr. Eldred Worple, seemed much more interested in Marcus than Rebecca or Professor Snape. They made their way quickly from him by Marcus' subtle hints.

"Thanks," he said once they'd gotten across the room from him. "I don't want this to turn into an interview."

"I must take my leave of you both," Professor Snape said suddenly. "It appears Horace wishes to speak with me."

He looked slightly irritated, and when Rebecca glanced around, she saw Slughorn trying to get his attention by obviously glancing over at him and waving every so often. Rebecca held back the smile.

"Good luck, sir," she said as he left.

But that left her alone with Marcus. What could they possibly talk about?

"I almost didn't recognize you, Becca," Marcus said as soon as the professor had turned his back. "But then it's been two years since I've seen you." He chuckled.

"You haven't changed much, Marcus, I'm glad to say," Rebecca commented, unsure of what else to say. Though he had gotten more muscular, she noted now.

"Thought being a 'star' would go to my head?" he asked with a smirk.

"Not really, though it's been known to happen to the best of people."

"My family wasn't too happy about it, that's for sure," he said. "Father wanted me to go into the Ministry somehow, but all of those politics go over my head most of the time."

Rebecca nodded. "Understandable. I have no desire to go into any sort of Ministry position once I graduate."

"You'd be more likely to stay here. Become the new librarian when Pince retires?"

Rebecca glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. He was smiling. Was he… flirting? The term was so unfamiliar a concept that she wasn't sure what would and would not constitute flirting.

"I'd much rather go into something Potions-related, actually."

"Of course," Marcus said, looking a bit miffed. She hadn't responded exactly the way he'd wanted her to, but then again, she could be oblivious to what he was doing.

They watched the vampire Sanguini for a moment. He looked completely disinterested in everything that was going on. Rebecca's eyes scanned the room, and she saw Slughorn talking animatedly to Professor Snape. When she looked back to Marcus, he was staring at her.

"You look very nice tonight, Rebecca."

"Thank you," she replied.

More students were entering the room now, and music was beginning to play. Wizarding Christmas music was a bit different from muggle Christmas music, Rebecca was amused to discover. It sounded a bit more lively and less preachy.

Rebecca grinned. "Harry!" she called, waving.

The boy had just entered with his date, Luna Lovegood. The girl looked pretty as usual. Both smiled as they approached, but then Harry saw Marcus and frowned a bit.

"Hey, Becca," he said. His eyes darted to her side. "Flint."

"Potter," Marcus said, his voice just a peg above grim.

"I invited Marcus to come with me to the party since no one else would go with me," Rebecca said to alleviate the tension she felt. "He was nice enough to come. Hello, Luna. How are you?"

"I'm fine, though I suspect that mistletoe hanging over there has a nargle infestation," the girl replied dreamily.

Harry and Rebecca shared a similar amused look.

"Harry, m'boy!"

"Oh, no," Harry groaned.

Slughorn approached them quickly, making his way through the now crowded room. House elves had been passing out hors d'oeuvres since the party had begun, and they caused a few problems for the new Potions Master as he made his way across the floor.

"Harry, welcome! I have so many people I want you to meet!" he said as he reached them. "Miss Felan, I'm going to steal your friend from you for a few moments," he added with a wink in her direction.

Harry gave her a pleading look, but Rebecca mouthed "sorry," unable to think of anything to dissuade Slughorn from taking him. Harry grabbed Luna's hand and dragged her along behind the professor.

"She's… a different one, isn't she?" Marcus asked after the other two had gone.

"A bit," Rebecca answered. "But she's nice, and a pretty powerful witch."

"I wouldn't doubt, seeing as she fought at the Ministry with you and Potter earlier in the year."

Rebecca closed her eyes. She had hoped that wouldn't come up.

"You didn't think I hadn't heard just because I barely mentioned it in my letters?" he asked.

"No, it's just that was a very terrifying night for all of us, and I'd appreciate it if you would drop it," Rebecca told him a bit snappishly.

"I'm sorry, Becca, I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"I lost a friend that night, so yes it is."

"Black?"

"Yes, Sirius," Rebecca said. "He was acquitted of all charges, you know."

Marcus was quiet for a moment. There was a bit more to her than he remembered. She had no longer held his hand past their meeting with Slughorn and now seemed to shy away from him.

"Allow me to make it up to you?"

She sighed quietly. "I'm sorry, Marcus," she said, turning to him. She gave a little smile. "Sure. What did you have in mind?"

He held out his hand. "How about a dance?"

Rebecca looked at his hand for a moment. She wasn't certain about dancing, as she hadn't done so before, not even at the Yule Ball.

"Sure," she said finally, taking his hand.

Severus was watching the goings-on from his corner. When Potter had entered, he immediately went to Rebecca. That's when he realized how similar Rebecca was to Lily that night, dressed as she was; the green of her dress, if possible, made her hair appear even more red in color. With Potter standing near her, it was bringing back some very poor memories from long ago. He grunted, remembering how wrong James Potter had been for Lily Evans… that is, until she inexplicably fell in love with him.

Somehow, Severus knew his calling her that wretched name had sent Lily straight into Potter's arms. He sneered. He did not need to be thinking of these things right now.

At least Rebecca hadn't fallen in love with James Potter's son. It would have been like the gods were playing a cruel joke on him. The way she spoke of him was like a girl speaking of her brother.

Now she and Flint were dancing, along with a few other couples, though there was little room for it. Then, to Severus' amusement, under the mistletoe, he spotted Granger and McLaggen. Won't Weasley the younger be surprised? he thought, smirking. She appeared to be struggling, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She sent McLaggen on his way before making her escape.

Gryffindors were so utterly idiotic.

Rebecca and Flint had stopped their dancing, meeting up again with Potter and Lovegood, the Granger girl joining them. Strangely enough, Trelawney, that loony bat, was speaking with Lovegood. Quite a conversation that pair would make. Granger quickly disappeared when McLaggen lumbered his way over.

Severus made his way toward them, having noted Rebecca's discomfort. She might have hid it well enough from her friends and Flint, but she was not doing well with so many people in so little space. It didn't help that Flint was practically smothering her with his affection, grasping her to his side as though she were some trophy. Potter didn't look all too happy about it.

Slughorn had found his way to the little group, and Severus attempted to get away from them, utilizing the crowd to his advantage. To hell if he was getting into conversation with Slughorn again, even if his protégé was becoming uncomfortable in the situation she had created for herself.

But it was too late, Slughorn had found him and pulled him from the crowd. Severus cringed at the hand on his shoulder.

"Stop skulking and come join us, Severus!" Slughorn hiccupped happily.

The man was drunk. Even better.

"I was just talking about Harry's exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!" Slughorn continued.

This conversation is not going to end well, Rebecca thought as she looked between Harry and Professor Snape.

Severus looked down his nose at Potter, eyes narrowing. "Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all."

The meaning was lost to the drunk Slughorn. "Well, then, it's natural ability!" he shouted. "You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death—never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus—"

"Really?" Severus asked, his glare becoming more fierce by the second.

"Not to say, of course, Miss Felan isn't good," Slughorn said suddenly, as if realizing that Rebecca was there as well. "I couldn't forget you, Miss Felan—very talented, indeed." He smiled.

"Thank you, sir," Rebecca said a bit meekly. Professor Snape was becoming more irate with each moment of this conversation. His black eyes met hers, and she shivered under the emotion expressed there.

"Remind me what other subjects you're taking, Harry?" asked Slughorn.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology…"

"All the subject required, in short, for an Auror," said Severus with a sneer.

"Yeah, well, that's what I'd like to do," said Harry, clearly in no mood for Professor Snape's remarks.

"And a great one you'll make too!" boomed Slughorn.

Rebecca nearly laughed at the ludicrous conversation going on about her, but Luna piped in.

"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," she said. Everyone looked to her. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."

Harry, who had been taking a sip of mead, inhaled it up his nose as he began to laugh. Rebecca, unable to hold back any longer, broke into a fit of giggles. She attempted to cover her mouth with her hand in order to stifle them, but it was no use. She and Harry were too far gone. Luna smiled, thinking her friends were in the know about this conspiracy and covering for her.

When Rebecca finally got ahold of her giggles, she looked up to see Filch dragging Draco Malfoy by his ear toward the little group. She immediately sobered.

"Professor Slughorn," wheezed Filch, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Draco pulled free of Filch's grasp, his face contorted in fury.

"All right, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily. "I was trying to gate-crash, happy?"

"No, I'm not!" said Filch, though he looked to be experiencing Christmas early he appeared so happy. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the Headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"

"That's all right, Argus, that's all right," said Slughorn, waving a hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."

Rebecca saw Filch looked like he'd had his presents taken away. Professor Snape, she could see, was under great distress at Draco's being there, but hiding it well except for an occasional twitch of his hand. His anger, of course, covered for him.

Filch turned and shuffled away, muttering under his breath. Draco had composed himself and turned to Slughorn.

"I thank you for your kindness, sir," he said.

"It's nothing, nothing," said Slughorn, waving away the boy's thanks. "I did know your grandfather, after all…"

"He always spoke very highly of you, sir," said Draco quickly. "Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known…"

Though Draco had composed himself, he still looked like he would be sick. That was the fear that had been coursing through him when he had been caught, Rebecca knew. She'd felt and looked exactly the same after Greyback had gotten her. She also knew that he was not sleeping well, like her, though he was more obvious about it. The bags under his eyes were massive, and his skin looked more gray than pale.

"I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Severus suddenly. He could take no more of this.

"Oh, now, Severus," said Slughorn, hiccupping again, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard—"

"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," said Severus curtly. "Follow me, Draco."

As he turned, Severus again met eyes with Rebecca, but only very briefly. Rebecca looked to Draco, who followed behind Professor Snape, appearing very irritated.

And there went Harry, excusing himself. Rebecca narrowed her eyes at him when he said he was going to the bathroom. He had his cloak with him, was going to go spying when he shouldn't. Luna turned quickly back to Trelawney, who was more than happy to continue whatever it was they had been talking about before. Slughorn shook his head before tottering off into the crowd.

"Well that was certainly interesting," said Marcus.

"Just another day at Hogwarts," Rebecca said with a sigh.

She was a bit on-edge at the moment. There were too many people in the room, too many of them accidentally bumping into her, too many nudging her, making her panic try to rise. She had been doing fairly well since Professor Snape had told her to get over her fears. He was right; she wouldn't be much of a spy if she were afraid all of the time. But this party was getting to be too much.

"Rebecca?"

"Sorry, Marcus, it's a bit stuffy in here," she said quickly, looking back to him.

He took her hand gently, something she would have preferred he not do at the moment, and led her toward the corner of the room, where there was less people.

"Better?"

"A bit, thank you," Rebecca said, not so certain this was where she wanted to be.

She noticed he was looking up. She followed his gaze. Oh, bloody hell.

He was smirking at the mistletoe above their heads. He planned this, Rebecca realized. She did not appreciate having the tables turned on her. He looked back to her, smirk replaced with a smile.

"I'd like to kiss you, if you don't mind," he said quietly.

"No offense, Marcus, but I would," Rebecca said, her reserve breaking. She took a step from him. "I invited you here as a friend, nothing more. Excuse me."

She turned around quickly, ignoring his calls for her. Rebecca needed to get out of this room with its too many occupants. She went into the corridor just as Professor Snape was trying to get back inside.

"I was just coming to retrieve you, Miss Felan," he said, looking a bit startled to see her.

She looked flushed. He knew that look.

"I need a breath of air, professor, I'll be back momentarily," she said, trying to step past him.

He stepped in front of her. "The last time I allowed you to wander off by yourself, you were snatched," he said quietly, evenly. "I will accompany you."

"I don't need your protection," Rebecca whispered, attempting to step around him once again.

He grabbed her shoulders forcibly, something he had never done before. Rebecca heard a quiet gasp.

"_Accio Invisibility Cloak_!" Rebecca roared, turning from Professor Snape's grasp.

The cloak came to her magic, revealing Harry pressed against the wall nearest to them, staring in horror.

Rebecca felt the last hold on her anger give way. She tossed his cloak back at him roughly. "It'd be better if you left the spying to me, Harry James Potter," she growled. "Don't disappear underneath that thing before the night is over. We need to talk." She pointed a finger at him.

"I'm sorry, Becca…"

"Get back to Luna," she snapped.

Harry looked between Rebecca and Snape, wondering if he should leave.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for skulking about," Severus said, glaring at Potter over Rebecca's shoulder.

Harry glared defiantly back at him before returning to the party.

Rebecca turned to look at her mentor, who glanced back at her, his face still angry from their conversation and probably Harry's interruption.

"No secrets, Miss Felan," he suddenly said. "What is the matter?"

She sighed, unable to hold onto her anger any longer. "Marcus tried to kiss me," she said, shaking her head.

At that admission, she turned and went back into Slughorn's office to find Harry. Severus remained in the corridor for a few minutes before going inside as well.

Rebecca found Harry quickly and pulled him aside. She quickly muttered a privacy spell to make sure their conversation wasn't heard.

"What the hell was that with Snape?" he asked once she motioned to him.

"He's my mentor, Harry, I'm as close to him as I am to Dumbledore," Rebecca said, exasperated.

"The way he grabbed you, though…"

"He's never done that before, he was just angry that I was trying to go off by myself."

"Why were you, anyway?"

"Marcus tried to kiss me," Rebecca said quickly. "And there were too many people in the room, it was making me panic."

Harry made a face. "Flint kiss you? Disgusting," he said quietly. "Are you okay now?" He knew what she went through that night last term and understood she didn't like to be touched or get close to people anymore.

Rebecca had never told any of her friends the full truth, about how Greyback had touched her. There were only two people who knew about it, now that Sirius was dead: Albus and Professor Snape.

She sighed. "I have a hold on it," she said. "You need to stop sneaking around, Harry. It's not safe."

"Safe for you, is it?" he asked a bit harshly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, Becca."

"No, you meant exactly what you said," she told him, staring at him flatly. "I sneak around to keep everyone safe; you, Ron and Hermione included."

"That's not what this is about, Rebecca. What was Snape talking about, 'last time'?"

"I argued with him the night Greyback took me," Rebecca said. "I was catching some air before I went back to the common room that night. He thinks it's his fault I was taken. You think it's bad to have Dumbledore knowing your whereabouts at all times, think about having a master at spying worrying about you."

"I know what you're going through in that respect," Harry said with a smirk.

Rebecca glanced at him. He didn't, but he was trying to lighten the situation, which was a good thing. "Just don't read too much into what you saw," she told him. "And if you're going to spy, think about casting a silencing charm on yourself."

"Will do," he said. His eyes scanned the room. "Uh oh, looks like Flint's looking for you."

Rebecca grit her teeth and undid the spell around them. "Let's just get through the rest of this night."

Harry nodded, looking to Flint as soon as he approached his friend.

"Rebecca, I just spoke with Snape," he said. "He told me to come find you. He says Dumbledore needs you."

Rebecca wondered what the matter was. She allowed herself to be led back to Professor Snape, who then escorted them back to the edge of the wards of the school. He stood by menacingly as Marcus pulled Rebecca aside.

"I'd like to come back and visit with you, Becca," he said quietly. "When's your next Hogsmeade trip?"

"I'm not certain," Rebecca said, hoping he would drop the subject.

"When you know, owl me," he said, still smiling.

Rebecca always knew the boy was dense, but she had no clue how deeply this trait ran. She sighed.

"All right, Marcus, I'll owl you," she said.

He leaned in suddenly, and Rebecca barely had time to turn her cheek to him. Professor Snape cleared his throat very loudly. Marcus pulled away from her, appearing as though her cheek was a great gift to him.

"Good night, Rebecca," he said, touching her hand gently before stepping behind the wards. "Good night, Professor Snape."

He Apparated with a loud "pop!" Once he was gone, Severus turned to his charge, who was back to business as usual.

"What did Albus need, Professor Snape?" she asked, rubbing her cheek as if she wished to scrub off the offending kiss. For some reason, this amused him.

"I lied to Flint in order to alleviate some of your discomfort, Miss Felan," he said calmly. "Although he doesn't seem to be able to take 'no' for an answer." Unable to stop it, his lip quirked into the smallest hint of a smirk.

"Well, thank you, sir," Rebecca said, a little perplexed.

"Should I escort you back to the common room, Miss Felan?"

"Please. I've had enough party for one night."

"Parties were never my strong point, either," said Severus with a sneer.

"You were such a social butterfly this evening, sir," Rebecca countered. "I thought you _liked_ parties from the way you were acting."

"I must ask that you leave the sarcasm to me, Miss Felan."

He imagined she would have had he not been smiling while he said it.

* * *

_Christmas Break, late December 1996_

The next day found Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Rebecca at the Burrow. Hermione had gone on holiday with her family this break. Ron said his mum had told him the house was going to be full this Christmas, as everyone was coming over at some point. His older brother Bill was now engaged to Fleur Delacour, the champion from Beauxbatons in the Tri-Wizard Tournament during their fourth year and they were staying at the Burrow, so Fleur could get to know the family better. This would prove to be interesting, to say the least, as it didn't appear that Mrs. Weasley liked Fleur all that much.

It was indeed crowded when they first arrived, but that didn't stop Mrs. Weasley from giving the four of them tasks. Ron and Harry were to help her in preparing for dinner that night. Ginny and Rebecca were to clean the silverware. Rebecca muttered about not being able to use magic, and she heard the twins in the kitchen taunting Ron for the same exact reason. Rebecca couldn't wait for her birthday in March.

The break passed pretty much flawlessly. Rebecca was happy to discover that Remus was joining them as well, but that meant room-shuffling. As it was, Mrs. Weasley wasn't allowing the engaged couple to share a room, leaving Ginny and Fleur in a room together. This didn't sound overly exciting, so she told Mrs. Weasley she would be perfectly fine with the couch in the living room, as she didn't sleep much anyway. After much arguing, Mrs. Weasley finally relented. Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief.

It was Christmas Eve that proved to be one of the more eventful times that break. They had been at the Burrow roughly five days now, and everyone was pretty happy so far. Tonight was no different, though Fleur attempted to express her dislike for Celestina Warbeck, who was Mrs. Weasley's favorite singer.

Rebecca sat near Remus, Harry, and Mr. Weasley, who all began a conversation. She didn't pay much attention to it at first, watching Fred and George's game of Exploding Snap fairly closely, until Harry mentioned Professor Snape.

She listened to what Harry told Mr. Weasley what he had overheard Snape saying to Malfoy. She shot him a glare, and he looked bashful. He had never told her what he overheard.

She allowed Mr. Weasley and Remus to tell Harry exactly what she was thinking: Professor Snape was merely pretending to offer help, and surely Dumbledore knew about this already. As Celestina's final song ended, Mr. Weasley called loudly for a nightcap to drown out Fleur's apparent disgust in the singer's talents. As the nightcaps were being passed around, Rebecca looked to Harry.

"I agree with Remus," she said. "I don't understand why you hate him so much, Harry, especially knowing that he saved my life. He could just as easily have left me there."

"Rebecca has a point, Harry," Remus said.

Harry was quiet, feeling thoroughly cowed into submission by the others.

"What have you been up to lately?" Harry asked Remus, trying to break the awkwardness.

"Oh, I've been underground," Remus replied. "Almost literally. That's why I haven't been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been living among my fellows, my equals. Werewolves," he added when Harry looked confused. "Nearly all of them are on Voldemort's side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was… ready-made."

He sounded a bit bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, "I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing—and sometimes killing—to eat."

"How come they like Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"They think that, under his rule, they will have a better life," said Remus. "And it is hard to argue with Greyback out there…"

Rebecca tried to look normal about the mentioning of the werewolf's name, but it was no use. Harry watched her carefully.

"He's leading the werewolves, isn't he?" Rebecca asked quietly.

Remus nodded. "I imagine you're a bit more familiar with him, having to study the Death Eaters."

She nodded. "He's fierce," she explained to Harry. "He wants to turn as many people as he can. He even has his world planned out. He would bite children and take them from their parents to be raised separately, so they would learn to hate normal witches and wizards. He wants werewolves to be able to overrun the wizarding world."

Remus nodded. "It was Greyback who bit me."

"What?" said Harry, astonished. "When—when you were a kid, you mean?"

Rebecca had always suspected. She saw Remus watching her very still frame as he explained to Harry how it had happened.

"Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback's insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people."

"But you are normal!" said Harry fiercely. "You've just got a—a problem—"

Remus burst out laughing. "Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem' in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit."

They were quiet for a while as Mr. Weasley handed around the eggnogs. Suddenly, Rebecca spoke up.

"He preys on children."

"Becca?" Harry asked.

"Greyback, he preys on children," she said, looking up to Remus, who nodded. "He targets them specifically. He—"

She shook her head. Harry put a hand on her shoulder.

"Is this about what happened that night?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, then looked back up to Remus. She gathered her nerve, speaking calmly and in an even voice. "When he bit you," she began, "did he do anything else?"

Remus furrowed his brows. "No. Rebecca, what's the matter?"

"Then it's just girls he fancies, then," she said.

Remus' eyes widened. He quickly set down his glass of eggnog. The rest of the room was loud with conversation. He moved his chair closer to Harry and Rebecca.

"Sirius mentioned to me last Christmas that you told him something about the night you were attacked," he said slowly. "He said he was glad he could actually help someone else for once."

"Did he tell you?" Rebecca asked, her spy face firmly set.

"Nothing other than that," Remus said. "Is it about Greyback?"

"Yes."

"He did more than just take you to Voldemort," Remus said.

"He didn't rape me, if that's what you're asking," Rebecca said quietly, but firmly.

"Becca, what didn't you tell us about that night?" Harry asked, concerned. "We could have helped you through it."

"I'm sorry, I was just so tired of talking about it then, of reliving it," Rebecca said, turning to look at Harry.

"Rebecca, what happened that night with Greyback?" Remus asked.

"He just touched me," she said, meeting his eyes. "That's all. But the way he was talking, he does it a lot. Use that on the werewolves, there's bound to be some women who turn at the moon. There's likely to be one of them with children, female children. Tell them to protect them. No one likes a child molester."

Remus nodded. "Thank you for telling us," he said, putting his hand over Rebecca's.

"It took a lot of courage," Harry added.

"Just keep this between us, now, I don't want to upset everyone," Rebecca said.

"Who else knows?" asked Remus.

Rebecca paused. "Albus and Professor Snape… and Sirius knew. I'll tell people in my own time. It'll help, like when I talked to Sirius."

She unobtrusively pulled her hand away from Remus', giving him an apologetic smile.

"Is that why you were so upset when Bellatrix…?" Harry could finish the question.

"Yeah," Rebecca said.

Harry smiled. "Thanks for punching her."

Rebecca laughed, relieving the tension. "It felt good."

After a while, Remus and Harry's conversation went to the Half-Blood Prince. Rebecca had still been unable to convince Harry to get rid of the book, or at least turn it over to Dumbledore. Remus had no clue who the author was, but made a suggestion for Harry to look when the book was published.

That was when Fleur decided to imitate Celestina's singing. At Mrs. Weasley's look, it was determined it was time for bed.

"Harry," Rebecca said before her friend was able to leave, "you can tell Ron if you want. He should know."

Harry nodded. "Good night, Rebecca."

"Night, Harry."

The next morning, Rebecca awoke to find several presents lying around the sofa. It was early, and she wasn't sure if anyone else was up, so she decided to open them. As she sat up, her Weasley sweater fell to the ground. When she picked it up to look at it, she noticed it was dark green in color. In the center was a silver serpent with her initials just above it. She smiled and put it on, realizing just how cold it was in the living room of the Burrow without a fire going.

From Hermione, she received another enchanted planner, just like the one she had received last Christmas. Unlike the boys, Rebecca was actually glad to get one of these, as it was magically protected from anyone else but its owner reading its contents. From Fred and George, she got a slip of paper that stated she could receive one free item from their store no matter what it was. Rebecca placed this safely in her pocket. Ron gave her some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, remembering that they were Rebecca's favorite candy. Harry had given her a note. When she opened it, she read that he would allow her to go through the Black library in Grimmauld Place and pick out whichever books she wanted, with no maximum. Rebecca grinned.

And then, of course, there was Marcus' present. It was wrapped very neatly, the little snowmen on the outside waving and smiling to her as they moved about. She wondered if she should open it. Of course she had to. She hadn't gotten him anything, but he had told her again and again to get him nothing. Slowly tearing away at the wrapping, there lay a box. She opened it carefully, and she gasped. A beautiful cloak of dark green and silver lining lay within the package. She pulled it from the box; it felt like silk. Inside there was a note.

_My apologies for being an ass. Merry Christmas. Marcus._

Rebecca put the cloak on over her sweater, enjoying the extra warmth and the feel of the cloak. It was definitely something to wear to more sophisticated occasions, and she wondered if he had any plans up his sleeve. She decided it would be better if she stopped thinking about Marcus for now.

After a few more minutes, eating a bean now and then, Rebecca made her way up the stairs to Ron's room, where she found her friends to be up already, looking at their presents.

"What's that?" she asked, grimacing at the ball of maggots in the box next to Harry.

"Kreacher's gift to me," Harry muttered.

"You should probably get rid of it before they crawl everywhere," she said. "Thanks for my gift, by the way. I'll be sure to take you up on that at some point."

"No problem, thanks for mine," Harry said, lifting up the book on advanced defensive spells. "This will be one of the few books I'll have read all the way through, I think. The pictures are great, too."

"I figured you'd like the moving duels," Rebecca said. "Ron, thanks for the bea—"

She stopped, peering at the necklace that he was wearing. It was large, gold, gaudy, and read "My Sweetheart" in long, swirling letters. She raised an eyebrow at him and popped another bean into her mouth.

"Did Kreacher get you that, too?"

"Shut it," Ron muttered, glaring at the necklace.

"But it looks so cute on you Won-Won," Rebecca said, barely able to keep a straight face.

Ron threw his pillow at her, but Rebecca dodged, laughing the entire time.

"It's a good thing you got me the signed poster of the Cannon's star player," Ron said, looking at it. "Ask a favor of Flint?"

Rebecca shrugged. "He asked if there was something he could get me, and I still hadn't figured out a present for you yet. It came by owl a couple of days ago."

"It helps that he fancies you," Harry said. "That his present on your back?"

"Yes," Rebecca said. "His apologies for being an ass at Slughorn's Christmas party."

"It's nice," Harry said.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Come on, it sounds like at least your mum's in the kitchen, Ron. I don't want to be behind the twins for food."

Everyone was wearing new sweaters when they all sat down for Christmas lunch, every except Fleur (on whom, it appeared, Mrs. Weasley had not wanted to waste one) and Mrs. Weasley herself, who was sporting a brand-new midnight blue witch's hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace.

"Fred and George gave them to me! Aren't they beautiful?"

"Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're washing our own socks," said George, waving an airy hand. "Parsnips, Remus?"

"Harry, you've got a maggot in your hair," said Ginny cheerfully, leaning across the table to pick it out; Harry felt goose bumps erupt up his neck that had nothing to do with the maggot.

"'Ow 'orrible," said Fleur, with an affected little shudder.

"Yes, isn't it?" said Ron. "Gravy, Fleur?"

In his eagerness to help her, he knocked the gravy boat flying; Bill waved his wand and the gravy soared up in the air and returned meekly to the boat.

"You are as bad as zat Tonks," said Fleur to Ron, when she had finished kissing Bill in thanks. "She is always knocking—"

"I've invited _dear_ Tonks to come along today," said Mrs. Weasley, setting down the carrots with unnecessary force and glaring at Fleur. "But she wouldn't come. Have you spoken to her lately, Remus?"

"No, I haven't been in contact with anybody very much," said Remus. "But Tonks has got her own family to go to, hasn't she?"

"Hmmm," said Mrs. Weasley. "Maybe. I got the impression she was planning to spend Christmas alone, actually."

She gave Remus an annoyed look, as though it was all his fault she was getting Fleur for a daughter-in-law instead of Tonks, but it was clear she was fighting a long-lost battle. Fleur was happily feeding Bill from her own plate. Honestly, it made Rebecca want to vomit from the overload of cuteness.

"Tonks' Patronus has changed its form," said Harry. Rebecca was glad to have an excuse to look away from Bill and Fleur's side of the table. "Snape said so anyway. I didn't know that could happen. Why would your Patronus change?"

Remus took his time chewing his turkey and swallowing before saying slowly, "Sometimes… a great shock… an emotional upheaval…"

To Rebecca, it sounded like Remus didn't want to answer, and she had a guess why.

"It looked big, and it had four legs," continued Harry. Suddenly, he was struck by a thought and lowered his voice. "Hey… it couldn't be—"

"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley, looking out the kitchen window. She was standing and had a hand pressed to her heart. "Arthur—it's Percy!"

"_What_?"

Rebecca was on her feet quickly, even though she would be able to do very little in case it was some sort of attack. She cursed not being of age for the thousandth time. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight. He was not, however, alone.

"Arthur, he's—he's with the Minister!"

"Damn," Rebecca muttered under her breath.

There was Rufus Scrimgeour, following along in Percy's wake, limping slightly, his mane of graying hair and his black cloak flecked with snow. Before any of them could say anything, before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could do more than exchange stunned looks, the back door opened and there stood Percy.

There was a moment's painful silence. Then Percy said rather stiffly, "Merry Christmas, Mother."

"Oh, _Percy_!" said Mrs. Weasley, and she threw herself into his arms.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes at Percy, but then turned her attention to the Minister, arms crossed over her chest. She was still standing, as if trying to shield Harry from view.

Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and smiling as he observed the affecting scene.

"You must forgive this intrusion," he said, when Mrs. Weasley looked around at him, beaming and wiping her eyes. "Percy and I were in the vicinity—working, you know—and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."

But Percy showed no signs of wanting to greet any of the rest of the family, or anyone else for that matter. He stood, poker-straight and awkward-looking, and stared over everybody else's heads. Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George were all observing him, stony-faced.

"Please, come in, sit down, Minister!" fluttered Mrs. Weasley, straightening her hat. "Have a little purkey, or some tooding…. I mean—"

"No, no, my dear Molly," said Scrimgeour. The way he said it made it seem as though he had checked her name with Percy shortly before their arrival. "I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly…"

"Oh, Perce!" said Mrs. Weasley tearfully, reaching up to kiss him.

"…We've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, I assume you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody cared to show me around your charming garden… Ah, that young man and woman are finished, why don't they take a stroll with me?"

The atmosphere around the table changed perceptibly. Everyone looked from Scrimgeour to Harry and Rebecca. Nobody seemed to think that Scrimgeour's pretense at not knowing their names convincing, or found it natural that they should be chosen to accompany the Minister around the garden when Ginny, Fleur, and George also had clean plates.

Rebecca was surprised she had been noticed by the Minister, but that could not spell anything good for her position. If Umbridge was still in office, which she remembered hearing she was, that could be his reasoning. Or, perhaps, he knew that Harry would not go alone. Either way, she touched Harry's arm gently with her hand, getting him to stand up.

"Certainly, Minister," Rebecca said.

"Yeah, all right," said Harry.

One look at Harry told Rebecca that he was not fooled, either. Others around the table looked at them concernedly, especially Remus, who was half-rising from his chair.

"It's fine," Harry whispered.

Rebecca put her hand on Remus' shoulder as they passed, pushing down on him a bit. The man took his seat once more.

"Fine," Harry said as they passed Mr. Weasley, who had opened his mouth to speak. Rebecca gave him a nod.

"Wonderful!" said Scrimgeour, standing back to let Harry and Rebecca pass through the door ahead of him. "We'll just take a turn around the garden, and Percy and I'll be off. Carry on, everyone!"

Harry and Rebecca walked side-by-side out into the yard, toward the Weasleys' overgrown, snow-covered garden. Scrimgeour limped slightly at Rebecca's side. He had been the Head of the Auror office before his rise to Minister, and it showed upon his battle-scarred face. He looked tough, a no-nonsense sort of person, and he appeared much smarter than Fudge. He would be difficult, but he was not as terrifying as Tom Riddle.

"Charming," said Scrimgeour, stopping at the garden fence and looking out over the snowy lawn and the indistinguishable plants. "Charming."

Rebecca and Harry stopped, watching him. They gave each other a look. Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest once more and spoke.

"D'you think you really fooled anyone in the kitchen, Minister?"

He turned to her. "Miss Rebecca Felan, just as Dolores Umbridge said you'd be," he said, smiling congenially. "I've wanted to meet you and your dear friend Mr. Harry Potter here for quite some time now. Did you know that?"

"No," said Harry truthfully.

"We would have dressed nicer had we known, sir," Rebecca added, wrapping her new cloak closer around her.

Scrimgeour smirked. "You take after your Head of House," he said quietly. "I have wanted to talk to you both since I gained office, but Dumbledore has—most understandably, as I say—prevented this."

"I have no idea why you would wish to talk to me, Minister Scrimgeour," Rebecca said. "Or, for that matter, Harry."

Her bluntness threw the Minister, it appeared for he stumbled a bit. He had wanted to approach the subject, perhaps, a bit more cautiously.

"Well, I wanted to speak to Harry about the rumors that have been floating around, as they are want to do," he said, putting a smile back on his face. "We all know how these stories get distorted… all these whispers of a prophecy… of you, Harry, being 'the Chosen One'…"

Both Harry and Rebecca were silent, staring at the Minister with the full force of their gaze.

"…I assume that Dumbledore has discussed these matters with you, Harry?"

Rebecca looked to her friend, uncertain of the answer. She could see the deliberation in his eyes, wondering how much to tell him, whether to give the truth or not.

"Yeah, we've discussed it," he finally said.

"Have you… have you," said Scrimgeour, his tone pleasant. "And what has Dumbledore told you, Harry?"

"Sorry, but that's between us," Harry answered immediately, mimicking the Minister's own tone.

"Oh, of course, if it's a question of confidences, I wouldn't want you divulge… no, no… and in any case, does it really matter whether you are 'the Chosen One' or not?" Scrimgeour replied, still friendly.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes, not liking where the Minister was trying to take the conversation. "What exactly do you mean by that, sir?"

"Well, of course, to _Harry_ it will matter enormously whether he is 'the Chosen One' or not," said Scrimgeour with a laugh. "But to the Wizarding community at large… it's all perception, isn't it? It's what people believe that's important."

"How do you suggest the public view me?" Harry asked, encouraged by Rebecca's defiance in the face of the Minister.

"You are the symbol of hope to many, Harry," Scrimgeour said. "The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even be _destined_, to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—"

"Voldemort," Rebecca said loudly. "His name is Voldemort."

Scrimgeour looked to the girl, his face a bit surprised, but continued. "Well, naturally, Harry, it gives people a lift. And I can't help but feel that, once you realize this, you might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the Ministry, and give everyone a boost."

"I don't exactly understand what you want," said Harry, slowly. "'Stand alongside the Ministry'… What does that mean?"

"Oh, well, nothing onerous, I assure you," said Scrimgeour. "If you were to be seen popping in and out of the Ministry from time to time, for instance, that would give the right impression. And of course, while you were there, you would have ample opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror office. Dolores Umbridge has told me that you cherish an ambition to become an Auror. Well, that could be arranged very easily…"

This was the second time Umbridge had been mentioned, and Harry felt the anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

"So basically," he said, as though he just wanted to clarify a few points, "you'd like to give the impression that I'm working for the Ministry?"

Rebecca smirked. Minister Scrimgeour had made the ultimate error.

"It would give everyone a lift to think you were more involved, Harry," said Scrimgeour, sounding relieved that Harry had caught on so quickly. "'The Chosen One,' you know… It's all about giving people hope, the feeling that exciting things are happening…"

"But if I keeping running in and out of the Ministry," said Harry, still endeavoring to keep his voice friendly, "won't that seem as though I approve of what the Ministry's up to?"

Ah, now the _Minister_ is catching on, Rebecca thought, looking at his fallen features.

"Well," said Scrimgeour, frowning slightly, "well, yes, that's partly why we'd like—"

"No, I don't think that'll work," said Harry pleasantly. "You see, I don't like some of the things the Ministry's doing. Locking up Stan Shunpike, for instance."

Scrimgeour did not speak for a moment but his expression hardened instantly. "I would not expect you to understand," he said, and he was not successful at keeping the anger out of his voice. "There are dangerous times, and certain measure need to be taken. You are sixteen years old—"

"Dumbledore's a lot older than sixteen, and he doesn't think Stan should be in Azkaban either," said Harry. "You're making Stan a scapegoat, just like you want to make me a mascot."

They looked at each other, long and hard. Rebecca stayed mute, wanting to see how this would play out. Finally, Scrimgeour said, with no pretense at warmth, "I see. You prefer—like your hero, Dumbledore—to disassociate yourself from the Ministry?"

"I don't want to be used," said Harry.

"Some would say it's your duty to be used by the Ministry!"

"Yeah, and others might say it's your duty to check that people really are Death Eaters before you chuck them in prison," said Harry, his temper rising now. "You're doing what Barty Crouch did. You never get it right, you people, do you? Either we've got Fudge, pretending everything's lovely while people get murdered right under his nose, or we've got you, chucking the wrong people into jail and trying to pretend you've got 'the Chosen One' working for you!"

"So you're not 'the Chosen One'?" said Scrimgeour.

"I thought you said it didn't matter either way?" said Harry with a bitter laugh. "Not to you anyway."

"I shouldn't have said that," said Scrimgeour quickly. "It was tactless—"

"No, it was honest," said Harry. "One of the only honest things you've said to me. You don't care whether I live or die, but you do care that I help you convince everyone you're winning the war against Voldemort. I haven't forgotten, Minister…"

He raised his right fist. There, shining white on the back of his cold hand, were the scars which Dolores Umbridge had forced him to carve into his own flesh: _I must not tell lies_.

"I don't remember you rushing to my defense when I was trying to tell everyone Voldemort was back. The Ministry wasn't so keen to be pals last year."

They stood in silence as icy as the ground beneath their feet.

"What is Dumbledore up to?" said Scrimgeour brusquely. "Where does he go when he is absent from Hogwarts?"

"No idea," said Harry.

"And you wouldn't tell me if you knew," said Scrimgeour, "would you?"

"No, I wouldn't."

"Well, then, I shall have to see whether I can't find out by other means," Scrimgeour said, glancing quickly to Rebecca.

Harry looked to Rebecca, who appeared nonplussed, so he turned back to the Minister.

"You can try," he said indifferently. "But you seem cleverer than Fudge, so I'd have thought you'd have learned from his mistakes. He tried interfering at Hogwarts. You might have noticed he's not Minister anymore, but Dumbledore's still Headmaster. I'd leave Dumbledore alone, if I were you."

There was a long pause.

"Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you," said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Potter?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry. "Glad we straightened that out."

He turned his back on the Minister. Rebecca took a step to follow him, but was stopped by the Minister's hand on her wrist. He pulled her back toward him, sneering. Rebecca struggled for a moment and Harry turned around.

"I will return Miss Felan to you momentarily," Scrimgeour said to the boy.

Harry looked quickly to Rebecca, who nodded. Harry sent a glare in the Minister's direction before making his way back to the house.

Rebecca finally tore from his grip, spinning around to stare at him. "I would appreciate it if you were not to touch me, Minister," Rebecca growled. "I don't like being touched."

"So Dolores told me," he said. "She also mentioned a curious occasion happened to you last year when she was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"You mean the Acromantula attack."

"Exactly. You see, Dolores thinks it was odd that she was not informed of the matter until the next morning."

"I was poisoned," Rebecca said evenly. "There was no reason to call her, I imagine, when Professor Snape was the one who discovered me and gave me the antidote. He was the Potions Master then, after all, and my Head of House."

"She said you wouldn't show her your scars, even though there were some there," Scrimgeour said. "Show them to me."

"No."

He stared at her. He was not used to being defied so openly, and especially since Harry had just turned down his offer. "You were out after hours quite frequently, she said," he continued.

"Professor McGonagall asked me to be her assistant last year," Rebecca said. "Surely you've seen my O.W.L. score in Transfiguration, sir, so it shouldn't be a mystery as to why."

He glowered at her. "Do not play coy with me, girl!" he shouted. "I know Dumbledore is up to something in that castle, and I know that you're part of it!"

"What proof do you have, Minister?" Rebecca asked him, able to keep her voice calm and her face neutral, whereas Scrimgeour looked about ready to lose it.

Scrimgeour remained quiet.

"You believe that you can come here and pull your weight around just because of the position of power you happened to land yourself in," Rebecca said. "Well, you should think about hiring a Slytherin to help you on your tact and your attitude, sir, because whatever tactics you're using clearly aren't working for you."

"I will _not_ be spoken to as such by a teenager!"

He started for her. Rebecca jumped a bit, taking a step back. She furrowed her brows at him.

"But think of the press if you were to use magic on a defenseless sixteen-year-old," Rebecca said, a grin crossing her face. "Can't you see the _Prophet_ headline now, sir? That would do wonders for the wizarding public right now. They might start to question your mental state, perhaps even think about whether or not you've thrown the right people in jail."

The Minister's face went slack. He stopped advancing.

"And trust me, Minister, you wouldn't want me as your enemy," Rebecca said, staring him down.

"And why is that?"

"Because not only am I loyal to both Harry _and_ Dumbledore," she said, "I'm a muggleborn Slytherin—I've survived worse than anything you could ever think to throw at me."

She could see the Minister shaking with his rage, and she smirked at him. Perhaps that was too much, for he drew his wand.

"_Finite Incantatem_!"

Rebecca stayed perfectly still, knowing the sweater and cloak would hide her scars. But then Scrimgeour moved toward her. Rebecca took a step back. He grabbed her wrist, but Rebecca twisted, managed to get away. She took a few steps back, holding her hands to her chest so the Minister could not grab her again.

That's when she felt another's arm on her shoulder, pulling her away from the Minister. She looked up to see Remus protecting her, glaring fiercely at Scrimgeour. He kept his hand on her shoulder, holding his wand out toward the Minister. Arthur stepped forward, standing beside Remus.

"Minister, I must ask you to leave my property for assaulting one of my guests," Mr. Weasley said, hand on his wand. "If you leave now, we won't report this to the _Prophet_."

Scrimgeour looked directly at Rebecca. "I know there is something about you, Felan, something these people are trying to hide, something Dumbledore's trying to hide. You can't remain hidden from the Ministry. Don't think I'll forget you or Potter!"

Remus' hand slipped from her shoulder as she stood behind him. Remus shielded her from view, still holding up his wand. With her magic, Rebecca would have more than aptly defended herself. Without it, she was more than happy to let Remus and Mr. Weasley aid her. She glared back resolutely at the Minister.

"When you speak to her like that, it's like you're insulting my own daughter," Mr. Weasley said, taking another step toward the Minister. "I don't take _anyone_ insulting my family. Leave now, Minister Scrimgeour."

That was when Rebecca saw Percy come out of the house, smashed parsnip on his glasses. Rebecca held back her smirk. Percy approached the Minister. Without saying a word to each other, they Disapparated.

Mr. Weasley breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to Rebecca and Remus, hugging the girl. "Did he see your scars?" he asked as he pulled from the hug.

"No, Mr. Weasley, but thank you," Rebecca said. "Is anyone handy with charms?"

"I can try my hand at anything once, Becca," Remus said, still looking extremely angry. Though he was speaking to her, he was glaring at the spot where the Minister had Disapparated from.

They went inside the house, where Mrs. Weasley was sobbing. Arthur went to tend to her, as did the rest of the Weasley children. Harry accompanied Remus and Rebecca into the living room. Rebecca explained the charm to Remus.

"It's like a modified Disillusion Charm," she said, her arms held in her lap. "The incantation is _Tergum-vix disillusion_."

Remus considered the incantation and repeated it back under his breath. "Scar-skin disillusion?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Professor Flitwick," she said by way of explanation. "He says it's more about the wand movement and intention than the words. The words just tell the charm where they're supposed to go."

"The wand movements, then?" Remus asked.

Rebecca sighed, looking up at him, then to Harry. "It's a spiral movement beginning over the scar on my left forearm. The spiral ends just above the scar and then you have to touch the wand-tip to the scar."

She pushed up the sleeve on her sweater, looking away. "Nothing happens if you mess up, so the only way you'll know if you were successful is to keep trying. It takes a lot of magic, though."

"It's all right," Remus said.

Her scar was raised, and the skin that had been cut was pure white. The Dark Mark was frightening on her skin. Remus couldn't imagine it being anywhere else, but he knew it had been carved into her skin four other times.

Harry looked to Rebecca, noticing her discomfort at revealing her scar. He took her hand in his and held it. She smiled faintly at him.

"It's too bad I'm not seventeen," Rebecca said. "The Minister would have regretted attacking me."

"I know he would have," Remus said, meeting her gaze. He sighed. "All right, let's try it."

It took a few tries, but Remus finally managed to replace the charm on Rebecca's body. He looked a bit tired afterword, but much better than how she usually looked after performing the charm. Rebecca could still tell he was angry: he was very stiff in his movements, still, even though he performed the wand movements the last time perfectly. She imagined his rage at the Minister helped his magic, which was an interesting thought.

"Thank you, Remus," Rebecca said, lowering the sleeve of her sweater.

"No problem, Becca," he replied.

Harry sighed. "Let's go talk to Mrs. Weasley. I can still hear her crying."

* * *

_Meeting with Dumbledore, early January 1997_

"Arthur informed me that your Christmas break was… eventful," Albus said as Rebecca sat down in the chair near the fire.

"You could say that," Rebecca said.

"The Minister came to the Burrow."

"He believes you're up to something."

Dumbledore smiled. "Rufus is a perceptive man."

"He brought Percy, tried to play it off as if they were just stopping by. No one was fooled. He pointed out Harry and me, pretended not to know our names. When we got outside, I called him out on his lack of tact. He knows me, and he knows me too well."

"Dolores."

Rebecca nodded. "She's the spy in the Ministry."

"She sounds like a double-agent herself," Albus said thoughtfully.

"Unfortunately for her, she's a double-agent for the wrong side."

Albus was quiet for a moment. "Unfortunately, most people are not as moral as yourself or Severus when it comes to spying. Most do it for their own gain. The both of you do it in order to benefit others."

Rebecca was silent. She heard what sounded like a gust of wind, and then Fawkes was sitting on the top of her chair. Rebecca smiled at the phoenix, who was looking intently at her.

"Albus, what's he doing?"

"Fawkes is studying you, Rebecca," Albus said. "He enjoys learning about different people, the witches and wizards that I keep company with more so than others."

Rebecca met the phoenix's eyes. After a few moments of staring at one another, Fawkes turned his head toward his tail. Looking as though he were preening himself, he suddenly plucked a feather from his tail and turned about to face Rebecca again. He shook his head a bit, making the feather bob in front of her.

"Take it, Rebecca," Albus said. "He's giving it to you as a gift."

Rebecca reached forward and held the tail feather carefully in her fingers. Fawkes let go of the feather.

"Thank you, Fawkes," Rebecca whispered.

The phoenix trilled before making his way back to his perch. Rebecca looked down at the feather in her hand, turning it slowly between her fingers. The reds, oranges, and yellows changed tones in the fire's light.

"Phoenix feathers have magical properties yet undiscovered," Rebecca said as she continued looking at it. "That's why they use it in wand cores."

"That is correct, Rebecca."

"I don't think I'm meant to use this for a wand," she said. "I think it's meant as a reminder."

"What do you imagine Fawkes would wish you to remember?"

"You, him, all of this," Rebecca said, looking to Albus. "The Phoenix is a symbol for everything that the Light stands for; at least Fawkes is. If times get dark, I can look at this feather and remember this moment that I've had with you, all the moments that I've had with you, even after you're gone."

Albus smiled fondly at her. "I think that if Fawkes could speak, those would be the words he would say to you, Rebecca. Fawkes enjoys reading people, just as I do. He knows that you are strong, but there are times when you will need help. He has given you a special gift."

"I'll always keep it, even if I can't wear it openly."

She looked to the side table and saw a piece of string lying there. She picked it up and held it so Albus could see it.

"Do you mind if I use this, Albus?"

"Go right ahead. I imagine I left it there for a reason or another, but you may have it."

Rebecca put the string up against the end of the Fawkes' feather, murmuring a Permanent Sticking Charm. The two items fused immediately. Then, Rebecca transfigured the now connected items, making them smaller, picturing in her mind what she wanted. The string and feather shrunk until they would fit around her wrist, until it was silver in color and appeared to be that mineral. The phoenix feather was now a ruby-colored gemstone set in the middle of the bracelet.

Dumbledore smiled again as he watched Rebecca put it on. "A natural at Transfiguration," he said quietly. "At least your cover as Minerva's assistant last term is easily proven."

Rebecca smirked.

"We shall have to keep you and Harry inside the castle lest the Minister think it a good idea to approach either or both of you at Hogsmeade."

Rebecca nodded. "I don't really enjoy Hogsmeade visits, but Harry does."

"Exactly why you will both still be allowed to go, just under a much tighter surveillance."

"Unknown to Harry, of course."

"Of course."

"Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"Not at this time, Rebecca, but I thank you once again for everything."

Rebecca inclined her head slightly, her form of a salute, before standing and leaving the Headmaster's office.

_Legilimency Lessons, mid-January 1997_

"Your Legilimency skills are improving significantly, Miss Felan," Severus told her, sitting down in the chair behind his desk. She was becoming stronger in her attacks, more confident. Now he was teaching her subtlety, which was proving to be quite easy. However, it was tiring.

"Thank you, sir," Rebecca said, smiling a bit. It was rare such an open compliment would come from her mentor.

"How have you been since the break?" he asked, noting that she had gotten more voracious in her need to master Legilimency.

"A bit jumpy, but I'm all right," Rebecca said. "I won't let Scrimgeour get to me, or Umbridge, for that matter."

Severus nodded. "Good. You have nothing to fear from either of them, especially once you turn seventeen."

"In March." Rebecca smiled.

"Excuse me, Miss Felan?"

"My birthday, it's in March, sir," Rebecca said. "I'm just happy I can use magic whenever I want."

Severus hadn't really ever thought of her birthday before, though he recalled when it was.

"I'm certain you already know you'll have to be careful about the types of spells you use," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Especially in the presence of others."

"For instance, cursing the Minister of Magic would have been a bad idea," said Rebecca conversationally. "And if I should encounter him and he attempts to attack me again, I should consider restraint."

"Something along those lines, Miss Felan," Severus said, nodding. "Though self-defense is always permitted."

There was a moment of silence.

"I told the others what happened that night," she said. "It was time. And with Remus being underground, maybe he can use what happened to me to his advantage."

Severus watched her a bit anxiously. "Perhaps it will be of use, Miss Felan. If so, then some female werewolf children owe their mental stability, and possibly more, to you."

There was more to say about her statement, but he would wait for her to speak. He was surprised she was sharing something like this with him in the first place.

Rebecca nodded. "It felt good—telling other people what happened." She looked up at him. "I hope you're not still offended I didn't tell you."

"As you deftly pointed out to me, Miss Felan, it was none of my business," Severus said, glancing from her. "But it is good you are willing to share your story. It will aid in the healing process. However, I'm certain Greyback should stay clear of your wrath after the twentieth of March," he added with a smirk, unable to help himself.

What she didn't know, and what she would never hopefully find out, is the threat Severus had given Greyback with after parting from the Dark Lord one night last year. It was a few days after Rebecca had been taken; all the Death Eaters had been Summoned, but the Dark Lord wanted to speak to Severus personally. When Severus was leaving, Greyback had been at the same time. He still remembered it vividly.

"How's the little chit?" Greyback asked him, grinning. "She smelled sweet."

Severus sneered at him, stopping in his tracks. Greyback did the same, pulling himself to his full height, which was well above Severus' own. He did not care.

"You nearly cost me my position at the school, you great buffoon," Severus told him. "The Dark Lord would not have been so happy with you then."

"Yeah? Well, you didn't lose your job. That, and the girl had to be brought in—our Lord's orders, you know. And not like you could have done it, Snape."

"I'm very aware of that," Severus growled, eyes narrowing. "However, I have told our Lord the suffering you have caused my position because of your reckless behavior with Felan. He is displeased should his work be set back because of your incompetence."

"That won't happen, Snape. Dumbledore's an old coot and he trusts you above anyone else."

"Stay away from the Felan girl, Greyback," Severus said, taking a step toward the werewolf.

"Gettin' a bit clingy, Snape?" Greyback asked, sneering back at the man.

"I have the right to be," Severus said. "The Dark Lord wishes to convert her once the old coot dies. Should she see our ways, or even if she doesn't, she'll be mine." He smiled. "Our Lord has promised me this."

Greyback cursed.

Severus took another step, closing the gap between them. "I do not deal well with goods that have been tarnished, and I do not share, Greyback," he said, his voice very low. The werewolf was looking down at him solemnly, feeling the full weight of the man's words. "Stay away from what is mine. If you choose not to, you _will_ pay the price."

Severus could only imagine what Rebecca would think of him knowing the pact he had made with the Dark Lord himself. It was utterly disgusting. But, Albus wanted Rebecca to go with the other Gryffindors for their seventh year. She would be out of harm's way.

Rebecca smiled. He knew her birthday. It was surprising, to say the least, as she didn't think that he of all people would care let alone _remember_ a birthday, especially hers.

"I appreciate you remembering, sir."

"After knowing students for as long as I do, you would be surprised at the things I know, Miss Felan."

He stood from his chair. "Now, for the final time tonight: again."

"All business as usual, sir," Rebecca said, sighing as she took out her wand. "_Legilimens_."

* * *

_Rebecca's Birthday, March 20, 1997_

"How has your birthday been, Rebecca?" Albus asked, smiling at the girl as she entered his office.

Rebecca had been grinning all day, and found it extremely hard to stop.

"It's been the second best day of my life, in all honesty," she said, taking a seat across from him, in front of their customary place near the fire. It was March, and though it was getting slightly warmer, the castle was still a bit drafty.

"And the first?"

"The day Professor McGonagall came to my house to tell me I was a witch."

"Of course," Albus said with a knowing look. "That is, usually, a muggleborn's favored day."

"Everyone's been very kind today, except the Slytherins, but that's fairly typical," Rebecca said with a shrug.

"What did your friends get you, Rebecca?"

"Hermione managed to get another bag like hers," Rebecca said, showing it to him.

Albus noticed it looked nothing like Hermione Granger's bag. There were no beads on it; it was all black, matching with the folds of her robes, perfectly camouflaged. The embroidery was a dark green color. Albus smiled.

"It seems to fit you well."

"Yes, apparently the same woman who made hers makes all sorts of bags, not just beaded ones," Rebecca said. "Which is good. I've never really been a bead person. Anyway, Fred and George went in together for my gift."

From out of the bag, Rebecca pulled out an ear.

"Extendible Ears," she said by way of explanation. "They also got me a Shield hat, cloak, and gloves, with the promise I'd transfigure all of them so they wouldn't look like their products."

"Smart boys," Dumbledore said, nodding.

Rebecca nodded as well. "They basically raided their own shop, but they said they're making enough money as it is to let these items go."

"That was very generous of them."

"Ron said they made him buy my gift, apparently, but at least they gave him a discount," Rebecca said, chuckling. "It's a self-inking quill."

"Lovely."

"Harry got me a really nice present," Rebecca said, reaching into her bag again.

"A clip for a dagger," Albus said, a little shocked.

"Yeah, but it can magically adjust wherever I put it," Rebecca said, holding the brown case carefully.

"Are you certain it's wise to keep Bellatrix's dagger upon your person?"

"If I don't, one of the other Slytherins will find it and try and give it back to her," Rebecca said. "Not that it would work. I've done some more research on the Black family heirlooms with some help from Professors Snape and Slughorn. I even asked Professor Binns, but you know how he likes goblin-made items." She shrugged. "Apparently, old magical objects sometimes get almost a will of their own, especially when they've been with a particular family for so long. It acts much like a wand: it can be won and lost. I won this dagger from Bellatrix. If she were to try and use it without winning it back from me, it would not be nearly as potent. It could also not work at all, possibly turn on her. It would find its way back to me."

"Fascinating," Albus said. He had heard of objects such as this one, but he did not think they still existed.

"That's what I said," Rebecca told him. "So, I figured I should keep it on me all the time, just in case. Harry's present is really nice." She put it back inside her bag. "Mrs. Weasley sent me something from her and Mr. Weasley. It's a photo album of all of us at the Burrow from over the years. It's very nice."

She pulled it out and showed it to him. The cover, Albus saw, read "Family Album" and had the most recent Christmas photo on the cover. The figures waved emphatically at him.

Rebecca put the album back into the bag and grimaced as her hand touched the next item. "Marcus sent me something, too."

"As I expected him to."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, though the Headmaster's twinkled mischievously.

"It's worse than the cloak," Rebecca said, pulling out the box. She opened it to reveal a pair of emerald earrings. "They look expensive."

Albus looked over the jewels for a moment before leaning back in his seat. "I would not waste Mr. Flint as a possible ally just yet, Rebecca. He may prove useful to you yet."

"Yes, but I wish he would take the hint," Rebecca said, closing the box and letting it fall back into her bag.

"Young men can be very dense on occasion, Rebecca, as I'm sure you know from your years knowing Messers Weasley and Potter."

Rebecca sighed.

"If you are finished, I also have a gift for you, Rebecca," Albus said.

"Albus, you didn't—"

He held up his hand. "It is the least I can do for you."

Rebecca went silent, waiting for him to continue.

"My gift comes to you in two parts," he said. "The first you will receive today, and the second will come to you after my death, in my Will."

Rebecca bit her lower lip, not wanting to think about the time that was quickly approaching. She watched as the Headmaster stood, then walked toward his desk. Walking past it, he finally stopped in front of a cabinet that contained many interesting looking items. He took something out from the cabinet before starting toward her again.

Now he stood in front of her, both hands clasping an item with a curious appearance.

"What… is that?" Rebecca asked, standing so she could see it better.

"This is an item of my own creation," Albus said. "It dates back many years, but I believe you will find it more than beneficial once you understand how to use it."

He handed the silver instrument over to her, and Rebecca took it gingerly.

"It is like my own private Seer, but I call it the Architect," Albus continued, smiling at it fondly. "Because I no longer will have any use for it, I would like you to have it, Rebecca."

Once the object touched Rebecca's palms, she got a better look at it. It appeared to made completely of silver, with a square base and a long mast-like piece coming directly from the center of the base. Hanging from this mast were two thinner, shorter pieces of silver, pointing directly outward, so the object had the look of a cross. Two even smaller pieces were attached to these parts, but they were attached at the middle. As Rebecca leaned in to touch them, the two smallest pieces began spinning.

"You're thinking of something, Rebecca," Albus said with a smile.

"I—I didn't know I was," Rebecca said. "Albus, what exactly does this do?"

"It can observe objects that you are curious about, things that you are thinking of," he said. "It can figure out what the object of your thoughts is made of, its powers, even its weaknesses. However, it is difficult to understand at times. It understands any questions that you may ask it, I have noticed. It also attaches itself to whomever it is given to."

"How do you know that?"

Suddenly, from the spinning silver pieces, a puff of smoke emitted. Rebecca watched carefully as the smoke formed to create a snake. She looked to Albus.

"I have made a few of these items," Dumbledore said. "And their basis of objects and meanings never stay the same when they are handed over to another person. For example, a snake may mean one thing to one person and something different to someone else when using one of these Architects."

Rebecca watched as the smoke disappeared. The Architect stopped spinning and sat quietly in her hand.

"It is you who must figure out how best to utilize my creation," Albus said. "But I know no matter how you use it, you will do so well."

"Thank you, Albus," Rebecca said, smiling at him. Without thinking, she hugged him.

Albus patted her on the shoulder with his good hand. He realized, when she pulled back, that there were tears in her eyes left unshed.

"This means a lot to me, truly," she said unevenly.

"Now is not the time to cry, Rebecca," Albus told her. "You must celebrate the rest of the day while you still have it. You only turn seventeen once." He smiled fondly.

"Right, I'm sorry." She dabbed at her eyes; they were quickly dry. "Do I get a hint at my second gift?"

"Unfortunately, you must wait until you receive it," he replied. "Like my Architect, you may not understand at first why I have given what I will to you, but you will be able to use it fairly quickly."

Rebecca nodded. His words sounded ominous, but she couldn't think more on them just now; she would store them for later.

"Thank you again, Albus. I have to get going—Professor Snape said that he needed to speak with me, too, and then I have more studying to do for Charms tomorrow."

"Do not let me keep you."

"Goodbye, Albus."

She saw him wave to her as she left his office. Soon, she was standing inside of Professor Snape's office, waiting for the man to begin speaking. He was scribbling furious on a piece of parchment with his infamous red ink.

"First year paper?" she asked.

"Second," he said, lips tight enough that the word came out as a growl. "That toad of a woman couldn't teach a mermaid to swim."

Rebecca smirked. Finally, Severus was done with the parchment. He looked up at her.

"Did you want to talk to me about the paper I wrote on the Shield Charm? I know it was a bit short, but I was rushed on time."

Severus shook his head. "If you think an extra inch is 'too short,' Miss Felan, you should reconsider your definition," he said, rolling his eyes. "However, that is not why I wished to speak with you."

"Oh."

Severus didn't know what he was doing or why he was doing it, but a part of him felt that it was appropriate. He needed to stop over-analyzing what he was about to do and just do it. He opened up the drawer of his desk and pulled out a silver locket and chain. Stepping forward, he held it in his palms. He stopped when he was just in front of her, removing his hand that was holding the locket up. It fell to the end of its chain, then swayed before her.

Rebecca looked at what was before her curiously.

"This, Miss Felan, is an old family heirloom of mine," Severus said. He hoped she wouldn't think too much of the large "P" inscribed upon its surface, but he supposed it was wishful thinking. "It is designed to protect its wearer from most curses, hexes, and spells."

He paused a moment, then finally moved another step forward, holding it out to her.

"It is yours," he said.

"I'm… not sure what to say, sir. Thank you," Rebecca said, taking the old locket carefully from him.

Severus let go of the chain, watching her as she looked the locket over. What he was not going to tell her was its history, of course. Generally, it had stayed within the Prince family, his mother's side, only given to female-fiancés the males who had owned the locket greatly cared for. That was where the locket's power came from: love. The thought had made Severus sneer. He had analyzed the locket before even considering giving it to Rebecca. He had found many powerful protective spells on it, nearly imbedded into the silver that made up the object. This was where the power truly came from, he decided.

"I'm aware of the trip Albus is sending you on with the Gryffindors next year," he continued. "If you are to wear that, perhaps you will find it useful in certain situations."

Rebecca smiled, looking up at him. He had never given her anything this personal before, nor offered this much insight into his own personality. The locket was simple, but pretty, with a "P" on the front. It felt as though it had many dents on its surface, and the magic it held made it nearly pulse in her hands.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," she said, putting it on. "I'll make sure no one sees this, as you'll probably not want me to tell anyone you gave this to me."

"Perceptive as usual, Miss Felan."

Rebecca secured the locket underneath her robes, thinking. She met his eyes again.

"What's your mother's maiden name, Professor Snape?"

He furrowed his brow. Damn her and her quick mind.

Rebecca smiled a bit. "No secrets, sir."

After a moment's pause and a sneer, Severus said, "Her name was Eileen Prince."

"And she was pureblood, I gather?"

"The Prince family line has always been known for its pure blood," he said a bit stiffly.

Rebecca watched him struggle with telling her the truth. He was a very private man, and this was the most she would probably learn about him. But she could goad him into telling her things no longer.

"I recognize the writing in Harry's Potions book," she said. "It's changed a bit, but I know it's yours, sir."

Severus' lips thinned into a very straight line.

"I haven't mentioned it to anyone, especially not Harry," Rebecca continued.

"Keep it that way, Miss Felan."

"Of course, sir. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Thinking about my past and how it has gotten me where I am today is never a pleasant experience," he muttered. "Make certain Potter doesn't kill himself or others with those spells that are in that book. He wouldn't even _begin_ to understand what kind of power they hold."

"I'll do my best, sir."

"You are dismissed, Miss Felan."

* * *

_Emergency Meeting with Snape, early May 1997_

Rebecca hadn't even entered Professor Snape's office fully when he began yelling.

"What did I tell you?"

He was approaching fast. Rebecca backed away from the door, continuing to back away from him, always a step ahead. She didn't ever like when anyone was angry, much less Professor Snape. Right now, he looked positively livid.

"What are you talking about?" Rebecca said, circling around his desk and staying there.

"Potter!" he shouted. "He's cursed Draco, nearly killed him! He used one of my own spells from that book he still has his hands on. What did I tell you, Miss Felan?"

"I told Harry to be careful with those spells," Rebecca said. "I can't be with him every moment of the day."

"He used _Sectumsempra_," Severus told her. "It causes nearly unheal-able wounds to form everywhere on its target's body. Draco nearly bled out. Had Potter killed him—"

He turned away, pulling at his hair. He didn't speak for a long time, facing the wall, his eyes closed and his fists in his hair. Rebecca quietly approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Before she could react, his hand was on her wrist and he had spun to face her. He was sneering.

"You have failed in your orders from both Albus and myself," he growled. "You couldn't even get a simple textbook from your _friend_, the person who is supposed to trust you above all others. Because of him, the student who needs to survive the most was almost killed. Had I not been there, Potter would have had death on his hands. Miss Felan, this occurrence is because of your failing."

Rebecca tugged against his grasp, but he held fast. "It's not my fault that Slughorn gave Harry your book," she said. "It's not my fault you wrote in it and then didn't keep the book for yourself. You let it at the school on your own."

She tugged again, but his grip tightened. "Professor, you're hurting me, stop."

Rebecca was getting a bit afraid and felt herself begin to panic. She took in deep, even breaths, though, which kept her relatively calm.

"Please don't use Legilimency on me," she whispered. "That means you don't trust me, that you think I'd betray your confidence. I wouldn't do that, sir."

Her green eyes were pleading. Severus stared into them; his anger suddenly vanished. He sighed, dropping her wrist.

"I do not trust anyone, Miss Felan," he said. "I merely understand how people work. You are too Gryffindor to have told Potter anything that we've spoken of. Moreover, you are correct: it is not through your fault that Potter is a moron and uses spells he has no understanding of."

Rebecca rubbed her wrist, which was now red from his hold on her just moments ago. "I suppose that's the best apology I can expect," she said quietly.

"You were in no danger."

"It felt like it."

She was glaring at him, something she did not tend to do.

"I do not tend to harm those who are under my charge," Severus said, his eyes narrowing. "Verbal assaults aside, you haven't suffered anything but a slightly bruised wrist, something that is easily healed."

"Don't take out your frustrations on me, Professor Snape," Rebecca said quickly. "Is that why you called me here, so you could have someone to torture?"

"Don't be stupid, girl."

"Then why am I here, sir?"

"To be informed that your _friend_ is a dunderhead and that he nearly ruined everything," Severus said. "Be sure to follow him more closely in the future, Miss Felan. I do not want a repeat. My life was at stake tonight, for if I did not save Draco, the Unbreakable Vow would have taken me as well. Perhaps Potter will eventually understand that there are consequences to his actions."

"Is that all, sir?" Rebecca asked, her face neutral.

"No. Albus wanted me to prepare you for what is to come," Severus continued.

"I know what's coming."

"You have no idea."

"Then _tell_ me," Rebecca said.

"You must keep Potter out of the way," Severus said. "So that Draco can do what he must."

"Draco won't kill Albus," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

Severus clenched his teeth. "He must, or the Dark Lord will be displeased. He will not let down his family."

"Don't sound like them," Rebecca said, meeting his eyes again.

Her features had softened, he saw. Rebecca had a terrible soft spot, just like Lily.

"Draco doesn't want to kill Albus," Rebecca said.

"And I do?" Severus asked through his teeth. He gave her a severe look.

"I know you don't," Rebecca said. "But you'll have to. And I'll have to watch, with Harry, to be witnesses, to keep him from interfering, to keep him from coming after you." She shook her head. "If he knew that I had known…"

"You cannot turn Gryffindor halfway through, Miss Felan," Severus said, stepping toward her again. "Do not try and stop what must occur."

Rebecca shook her head.

"Afterward, when you're traveling with them, you cannot speak of me except with disdain in your tone," he said. "That is an order."

"I understand, sir."

"You will refer to me as Snape, the traitor, or any other creative slurs you can come up with."

Rebecca's jaw tightened.

"You cannot show me any sympathy," Severus said. "Steel your emotions, just like I taught you."

"And you, sir?" Rebecca said. "What will you do?"

"I will be protected by the Dark Lord, so it is not me who you should concern yourself with, Miss Felan, as it will be you who is the fugitive. Once this is all over, I will get what I deserve," Severus added quietly.

"Sir?"

"We may not get a chance to speak to one another after this, Rebecca, so know that you may keep that locket," he said, pointing to her collarbone, where he knew it lay beneath her robes. "And know that, despite your Granger-like attitude on occasion, and your insufferable astuteness, you were a pleasure to teach."

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

"Severus."

He said it sternly, though his eyes suggested another emotion. Perhaps acceptance? An acknowledgement of their equality? Respect?

"Thank you, Severus," Rebecca said, the name sounding strange on her lips. "For everything you've taught me."

She held out her hand. He hesitated, but finally extended his own. His grip was strong, but not anywhere near as tight as it was on her wrist just minutes before. She shook his hand solemnly. His palms were rough from overuse, always working at Potions or some other study, she supposed. He wondered at how soft her hands were, despite how much effort she put into all of her work. Finally, they let each other go.

Rebecca took a step back, heading for the door. She stopped when she got there, her hand on the door handle. She turned back to look at him, and saw he was turned from her.

"Severus?" she said, the name still sounding somewhat foreign on her tongue.

He turned slowly to face her. His hair hid the majority of his face from her. Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You're a good person," she said, nodding, as if attempting to will him to believe it, too. "It doesn't matter what anyone else says. You'll always be the best person I know."

He stared at her, unmoving. Rebecca watched him only for a moment longer before turning toward the door and opening it. She left his office for the last time, finally feeling the pressure of what was to come upon her chest.

* * *

_Dumbledore's Death, mid-June 1997_

Rebecca had been following Draco all night after dinner. He acted nervously, constantly wringing his hands together and pacing incessantly. Finally, he was leading her somewhere. The paths they were taking looked like the route to the Room of Requirement. Draco had been coming here throughout the year.

Disillusioned and Silenced, Rebecca waited patiently for him to come out. She knew Albus was with Harry. They were going to attempt to destroy a Horcrux tonight. It was tonight that Albus had to die. The emotions she was feeling Rebecca kept in the back of her mind; this repression was starting to upset her stomach.

Draco came out of the Room of Requirement. He wasn't alone. Rebecca sneered as Bellatrix, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Yaxley, Thorfinn Rowle, Gibbon, and Fenrir Greyback all emerged with him. As they passed, Rebecca stilled her breathing. Luckily, Greyback did not smell her. Their targets were pre-arranged, most likely. Quietly, Rebecca followed them, her eyes firmly on the back of Draco's head.

Bellatrix practically danced through the corridors, wand waving in her hand as she cackled. Rebecca felt the dagger attached to her right calf thrum with its power. It knew its old master was close.

The other Death Eaters were all business. The Carrows blasted spells at tapestries, at suites of armor, portraits—anything. From her vantage point, Rebecca could have Stunned and had all of them, or at least most of them, in a Full Body-Bind within moments. Albus' words rang through her mind.

"_You must let them do what they will, Rebecca. They are doing what they must do. You _must_ do this for me, for Harry, for the sake of the wizarding world._"

Suddenly, Bellatrix leaned out a window. With a shout of joy, she cast the Dark Mark. She approached Draco, almost hugging him to her.

"You must find him, Draco," she said. "It is your job. We'll be along shortly. Go on."

She pushed him forward. Draco drew his wand, watching as the Death Eaters split up into different parts of the castle. Then, members of the Order came around the corner. Spells fired everywhere. Draco stepped quickly against the wall as the Death Eaters began countering the spells. Rebecca saw Greyback step forward, toward Bill, who had his wand pointed at the werewolf.

Draco was on the move. Rebecca looked between him and Bill, now tussling with Greyback. A red light shot toward Draco, who countered it before responding. After a few moments, Bill was on the ground, his face scarred. Greyback moved away from him quickly, moving onto his next victim. Rebecca ground her teeth together, unable to do anything. Draco stepped over Bill and made his way through the fighting, a Shield Charm obviously up as the spells bounced off of him. He made his way toward the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

Rebecca followed him up, up toward the Astronomy Tower. Draco flung the door open, wand pointing. There stood Albus, as if Draco had known he would be there.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Draco shouted.

Albus' wand flew away from him, landing with a terrible clacking sound.

Rebecca looked to Albus, who was perfectly calm.

"Good evening, Draco," the Headmaster said.

His eyes flicked to where Rebecca stood and his eyes met hers. Rebecca knew that he could see through Disillusion Charms, but she didn't know how, and it was scary. Albus shifted to his left, nodding his head subtly toward Rebecca's right side of the door. Rebecca nodded once and moved quickly there, her hand out. She felt a sweater and tugged Harry toward her.

"Who else is here?" Draco's voice rung out behind her.

Rebecca removed the Silencing Charm and whispered in Harry's ear, "It's fine, it's me. Stay quiet."

"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?" Albus asked.

"No," he said. "I've got backup. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."

"Well, well," said Dumbledore, sounding pleased. "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"

Malfoy was panting. "Yeah," he said, giving a quick nod. "Right under your nose and you never realized!"

"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "Yet… forgive me… where are they now? You seem unsupported."

"They met some of your Guards. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long… I came on ahead. I—I've got a job to do."

"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," said Dumbledore softly.

Rebecca clasped Harry's shoulder tightly as the silence fell over all of them. Draco stared at Albus, who, Rebecca was somehow unsurprised, smiled.

"Draco, Draco… you are not a killer."

"How do you know?" Draco asked, thrusting his wand toward the Headmaster.

Suddenly, he seemed frustrated with himself, as if he understood how childish he sounded compared to the Headmaster before him.

"You don't know what I'm capable of," said Draco more forcefully. "You don't know what I've done."

"Oh yes, I do," said Dumbledore mildly. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts…. So feeble, to be honest, that I wondered whether your heart has been really in it."

Rebecca felt Harry's gaze upon her. She patted his shoulder lightly, unable to do anything else. Quietly, she stepped in front of him, but he was held in his place as if he were paralyzed by a spell. Albus must have paralyzed him as soon as Draco opened the door.

"It has been in it! I've been working on it all year, and tonight—"

Somewhere in the depths of the castle below, there was a muffled yell. Draco stiffened and glanced over his shoulder.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight," said Dumbledore conversationally. "But you were saying… yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible. How did you do it?"

Rebecca leaned over toward Harry. "We're witnesses," she whispered.

But Draco did not respond. He stood as still as a statue.

"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone," suggested Dumbledore. "What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight too. And after all, you don't really need help…. I have no wand at the moment…. I cannot defend myself."

Draco merely stared at him.

"I see," said Dumbledore kindly. "You are afraid to act until they join you."

"I'm not afraid!" snarled Draco, though he made no move toward Albus. "It's you who should be scared!"

"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe…. So tell me, while we wait for your friends… how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

Draco looked as though he was going to be sick. His wand was still pointed directly at Dumbledore's heart, but he made no other move. "I had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year."

"Aaaah." Dumbledore's sigh was half a groan. He closed his eyes for a moment. "That was clever… There is a pair, I take it?"

Rebecca wanted to rush to him, but stayed rooted in place.

"In Borgin and Burkes," said Malfoy, "and they made a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at the school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the cabinet was traveling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him… In the end, he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never passed the test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realized what it meant— even Borgin didn't know—I was the one who realized there could be a way into Hogwarts through the cabinets if I fixed the broken one."

"Very good," murmured Dumbledore. "So the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you…. A clever plan, a very clever plan… and, as you say, right under my nose."

"Yeah," said Draco, who bizarrely seemed to draw courage and comfort from Dumbledore's praise. "Yeah, it was!"

"But there were times," Dumbledore went on, "weren't there, when you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands… poisoning mead there was only the slightest chance I might drink…."

"Yeah, well, you didn't realize who was behind that stuff, did you?" sneered Draco, as Dumbledore slid a little down the ramparts, the strength in his legs apparently fading.

"As a matter of fact, I did," said Dumbledore. "I was sure it was you."

"Why didn't you stop me, then?"

"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders—"

"He hasn't been doing _your_ orders, he promised my mother—"

"Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but—"

"He's a double agent, you stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!"

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape—"

"Well, you're losing your grip, then!" said Draco. "He's been offering me plenty of help—wanting all the glory for himself—wanting a bit of the action—'What are you doing?' 'Did you do the necklace, that was stupid, it could have blown everything—' But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement, he's going to wake up tomorrow and it'll be all over and he won't be the Dark Lord's favorite anymore, he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!"

"Very gratifying," said Dumbledore mildly. "We all like appreciation for our own hard work, of course. But you must have had an accomplice, all the same… someone in Hogsmeade, someone who was able to slip Katie the—the—aaah…"

Dumbledore closed his eyes again and nodded, as though he was about to fall asleep. "…of course… Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?"

"Got there at last, have you?"

There was another yell from below, rather louder than the last. Draco looked nervously over his shoulder again, then back at Dumbledore, who went on: "So poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk in her own bathroom and pass that necklace to any Hogwarts student who entered the room unaccompanied? And the poisoned mead… well, naturally, Rosmerta was able to poison it for ou before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, believing that it was to be my Christmas present…. Yes, very neat… very neat… Poor Mr. Filch would not, of course, think to check a bottle of Rosmerta's. Tell me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all methods of communication in a doubt of the school monitored."

"Enchanted coins," said Draco.. "I had one and she had the other and I could send her messages—"

"Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore's Army used last year?" asked Dumbledore.

His voice was light and conversational. He was now leaning against the wall and had slid an inch lower as he spoke.

"Yeah, I got the idea from them," said Draco with a twisted smile. "I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the Mudblood Granger as well, I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognizing potions."

"Please do not use that offensive word in front of me," said Dumbledore.

Draco gave a harsh laugh. "You care about me saying 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?"

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore. Rebecca bit her own lip hard to keep herself from moving as she saw Dumbledore's feet sliding as he struggled to remain upright. "But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted…."

Draco's mouth contorted involuntarily.

"Now, about tonight," Dumbledore went on, "I am a little puzzled about how it happened…. You knew that I had left the school? But of course. Rosmerta saw me leaving, she tipped you off using your ingenious coins, I'm sure."

"That's right," said Draco. "But she said you were just going for a drink, you'd be back…."

"Well, I certainly did have a drink… and I came back… after a fashion," mumbled Dumbledore. "So you decided to spring a trap for me?"

"We decided to put the Dark Mark over the tower and get you to hurry up here, to see who'd been killed," said Draco. "And it worked!"

"Well… yes and no…. But am I to take it, then, that nobody has been murdered?"

"Someone's dead," said Draco, and his voice seemed to go up an octave as he said it. "One of your people… I don't know who, it was dark. I stepped over his body… I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way."

"Yes, they do that," said Dumbledore.

There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where Dumbledore, Draco, Harry, and Rebecca stood.

"There is little time, one way or another," said Dumbledore. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"_My_ options!" Draco shouted. "I'm standing here with a wand—I'm about to kill you—"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" said Draco, and he was suddenly white as Dumbledore. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position," said Dumbledore. "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized that I suspected you."

Draco winced at the sounds of his name.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you," continued Dumbledore. "But now at last we can speak plainly to each other…. No harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived… I can help you, Draco."

"No, you can't," said Draco, wand hand shaking. "Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."

"He cannot kill you if you are already dead. Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Nobody would be surprised that you had died in your attempt to kill me—forgive me, but Lord Voldemort probably expects it. Nor would the Death Eaters be surprised that we had captured and killed your mother—it is what they would do themselves, after all. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban…. When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, Draco… you are not a killer…."

Draco stared at Dumbledore. "But I got this far, didn't I?" he said slowly. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here… and you're in my power…. I'm the one with the wand…. You're at my mercy…."

"No, Draco," said Dumbledore quietly. "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matter now."

Draco did not speak. Suddenly, footsteps were thundering up the stairs, and a second later Draco was buffeted out of the way of four people in black robes burst through the door onto the ramparts. Rebecca's eyes followed Greyback closely.

Amycus Carrow, a lumpy man, gave a wheezy laugh. "Dumbledore cornered!" he said, and he turned to his stocky sister Alecto, who was grinning eagerly. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"

"Good evening, Amycus," said Dumbledore calmly. "And you've brought Alecto too… Charming…."

Alecto gave an angry little titter. "Think your little jokes'll help you on your deathbed then?"

"Jokes? No, no, these are manners," replied Dumbledore.

"Do it," said Greyback. His voice, raspy and a near-bark, sent a chill up Rebecca's spine. He smelled of dirt, sweat, and blood. His hands were still filthy, just as they were when he took her, with long yellowish nails.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" asked Dumbledore.

"That's right. Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No, I cannot say that I am."

Greyback grinned, showing his pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely. Rebecca's hand clenched tightly around her wand.

"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore."

"I am aware, Fenrir, how much you _enjoy_ children, as you say," Albus said, his eyes somehow finding Rebecca's. They conveyed so many different emotions: sadness, pain, anger… and pleading. He looked quickly back to Greyback. "Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual…. You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right," said Greyback. "Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend that it does not disgust me a little," said Dumbledore. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live…."

"I didn't," whispered Draco. He did not look at Greyback; he didn't seem to want to glance at him. "I didn't know he was going to come—"

"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore," rasped Greyback. "Not when there are throats to be ripped out… Delicious, delicious…"

And he raised a yellow fingernail and picked at his front teeth, leering at Dumbledore. "I could do you for afters, Dumbledore."

"No," said Gibbon sharply. "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly."

Draco looked terrified as he stared into Dumbledore's face. Albus had slid so far down the rampart wall that he was half of his original size.

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" said Amycus. "Look at him—what's happened to you, Dumby?"

"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus," said Dumbledore. "Old age, in short… One day, perhaps, it will happen to you… if you are lucky…."

"What's that mean, then, what's that mean?" yelled Amycus, suddenly violent. "Always the same weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing. I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yer! Come on, Draco, do it!"

But at that moment there were renewed sounds of scuffling from below and a voice shouted, "They've blocked the stairs! _Reducto_! _REDUCTO_!"

"Now, Draco, quickly!" said Gibbon angrily.

But Draco's hand was shaking so badly that he couldn't aim his wand.

"I'll do it!" snarled Greyback, moving forward.

"I said no!" shouted Gibbons. There was a flash of light and the werewolf was blasted out of the way; he hit the ramparts and staggered, looking furious.

"Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us—" screeched Alecto, but at that precise moment, the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there stood Professor Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the four Death Eaters, including the enraged werewolf, and Malfoy.

"We've got a problem, Snape," said Amycus, "the boy doesn't seem able—"

"Severus…"

Dumbledore had said the man's name quite softly. It was the most frightening thing Rebecca had ever heard in her life, and she gasped.

Greyback was immediately on alert. He stalked toward the sound. Rebecca moved away from Harry, patting his shoulder before she did so.

Everyone's eyes were on the werewolf. Rebecca saw that Professor Snape was scanning the area, as if hoping to find her before Greyback could. His eyes showed his fear.

Greyback was close to her now, and took in a deep breath. He smelled her. A hand reached out and snatched her up, and Rebecca cried out.

"_Finite Incantatum_!" cried Amycus.

Rebecca was revealed to the Death Eaters and Severus, who looked at her questioningly, hurriedly. Albus slipped down the wall another inch, looking at her sadly.

Greyback took her wand from her and threw it; Rebecca heard it clatter across the floor. He took both her arms in his hands, then leaned forward, grinning. Rebecca coughed at the smell of death coming from his mouth.

"Ah, my little friend," he said, brushing his nose through her hair. Rebecca squirmed, trying to kick him. There werewolf chuckled, started to turn her around toward him.

"Greyback," Severus said warningly, a sneer appearing on his face.

"Apologies, Snape," Greyback said, showing his teeth. Rebecca retched at the overwhelming smell of blood. "Here."

He pushed Rebecca toward Severus, who caught her by the wrists. He raised them so she would be forced to look at him. Rebecca's breath was coming to her fast. She felt the sweat beading upon her forehead from the adrenaline rushing through her. She was scared, and she couldn't help but show it. Severus stared into her eyes for a moment; it was the only way he could apologize.

He took both her wrists into his one hand, easily holing her in place. His other hand held his wand, pointed at her face. Rebecca stared at the end of it, breath coming out unevenly.

"How long have you been here?" Severus snarled.

"I—I followed Greyback here," Rebecca said, lying as she stammered out a convincing answer.

"Hoping to get _revenge_?"

Rebecca nodded empathically. "I—I didn't know what to do when—when…"

"Shut up," he snapped, turning her around violently. His arm dug into her stomach, keeping her in place.

He was entirely around her, and it scared her. She didn't like the way she was positioned, especially as Greyback stared at her hungrily. Her breathing picked up, but almost immediately she was calmer. He smelled like his handkerchief. She wasn't scared anymore. His closeness was a comfort; he wouldn't let any harm come to her.

Albus slid down the wall another inch. He grabbed his dead arm, clutched to his aching side. He met Rebecca's eyes, saw the calm that was there. He looked to Severus, saw the way he clutched her to him, saw the way she reacted. If he weren't in so much pain, he would have smiled. There was love in unexpected places. Hopefully the two of them would realize such things before it was too late.

"Severus…" Albus croaked, knowing he needed to speed this process up. He was growing weaker, could feel himself slipping. He could not die because his body was weak. He must die by Severus' hand.

Rebecca felt the tears coming to her eyes at the sound the Headmaster was making. Albus met Rebecca's gaze, and she shook her head, silently apologizing. He nodded almost imperceptibly in response.

Severus stepped forward, nearly dragging Rebecca with him. With his free arm, still grasping his wand, he pushed Draco out of the way. His eyes were on Albus, who was now staring at him, looking between him and Rebecca, who was shivering in his grasp. Severus saw that infernal twinkle in his eye, but it was fading quickly. Severus furrowed his brows. What could the old man possibly be happy about at a time like this? Suddenly, Albus held out his hand, as if attempting to point.

"Severus… please…"

Those two words conveyed so much in their meaning. Only he and the girl he was nearly strangling would understand their true meaning. His jaw clenched, and he raised his wand. Rebecca, playing the good actress, cried out, squirming in his grasp. He held her tightly, taking her breath from her. He felt her tears strike his chest.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Rebecca watched as a jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Rebecca screamed as Albus was blasted into the air. For a split second, he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull of the Dark Mark, and then he fell slowly backward, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.

"No, no, no, no…" Rebecca said, shaking her head as she went limp. The tears streaming down her face were real, though she needed to keep up her act in order to not drawn suspicion to herself.

"What do we do with the girl?" Alecto asked, leering at Rebecca.

Severus looked down at Rebecca, as if assessing her. "She will do us no good now," he said.

"Snape, bring her with us," Greyback said. "The Dark Lord promised her to you. You can have her."

Rebecca looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion and terror.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Gibbon buckled as Harry threw off the cloak and stood, his wand pointing.

"Let her go!" he shouted.

Severus sneered at the boy. "Get out of here, quickly," he ordered to the other Death Eaters, who had begun drawing their wands. "Now!"

He thrust Rebecca forward, sending her hurtling toward Harry, who caught her. She turned around, seeing Snape take Draco by the scruff of the neck and shove him out the door after the other Death Eaters.

"My wand!" Rebecca said, searching. Tears clogged her vision. "_Accio wand_!"

It shot into her hand. Harry grabbed her free one.

"C'mon, we have to catch him!"

He tugged on her arm, and Rebecca was pulled forward. "Harry, don't!"

"We can talk about this later, Becca, come on!"

Harry rushed forward. Rebecca followed him quickly. She reached the corridor just after Harry. The hallway was full of dust; half the ceiling looked as though it had caved in. A battle was raging before them.

"It's over, time to go!"

"Snape!" Harry shouted, rushing forward.

Rebecca saw the professor's robes disappear around the corner. He and Draco were unscathed. As Harry and Rebecca plunged after them, Greyback broke off from the fray and flew at them. Rebecca pointed her wand at him. A red light shot from her wand, and the werewolf fell off to the side. Harry looked to her, surprised. She took his hand in hers, and they made their way forward just as a green light shot over their heads.

Ginny was locked in a duel with Amycus, who was throwing hex after hex at her while she dodged them: Amycus was giggling, enjoying the sport: "_Crucio_—_Crucio_—you can't dance forever, pretty—"

"_Impedimenta_!" yelled Harry.

Amycus gave a piglike squeal as the jinx hit him in the chest, lifted him off his feet and slammed him into the opposing wall. He fell out of sight behind Ron, Professor McGonagall, and Remus, each of whom was battling a separate Death Eater.

"Harry! Rebecca! Where did you two come from?"

Harry pulled forward, not answering her. Rebecca followed, aiming silent hexes at Death Eaters. They fell quickly, allowing her and Harry through without a struggle. They sprinted forward.

Her shoes were slippery with the blood that was on the floor. She thought about the fate of those who were on the floor, but she would know of their fate before the night was through. Harry was faster than she was, and he was ahead of her by a lot. Rebecca struggled to keep up with him; he was on adrenaline and would not feel the burning in his lungs.

They reached the staircase. Harry continued forward, nearly jumping down all of the stairs. She rushed down them, bursting out from a tapestry at the bottom and out into a corridor where the Hufflepuffs all stood in their pajamas.

"Rebecca!" Ernie Macmillan said. "Harry—"

"I know!" Rebecca shouted, seeing her friend just ahead of her. "Protect yourselves, Death Eaters!"

The Entrance Hall was a mess. The oak front doors had been blasted open; there were smears of blood on the flagstones; several terrified students stood huddled against the walls, one or two cowering with their arms over their faces. The giant Gryffindor hourglass had been hit by a curse, and the rubies within were still falling, with a loud rattle, onto the flagstone below.

As Rebecca got outside, Harry was only ten yards in front of her. There were three figures making their way across the lawn, heading for the gates beyond where they could Disapparate.

A spell flew past Rebecca's head. She turned about, stopping only for a moment to aim, and cast two Stunning Spells back at her assailants: the Carrows. Both dropped to the ground, and she turned back, running faster to catch up to Harry.

Hagrid, she saw, was outside of his cabin and was attempting to stop the Death Eaters. _Hagrid, no,_ she thought. Though Thorfinn Rowle cast curse after curse at the gamekeeper, Hagrid's immense strength and toughened skin he inherited from his giantess mother seemed to be protecting him. Severus and Draco were still running, had almost made it to the gates…

"_Stupefy_!" Rebecca heard Harry yell. She was still far away.

The jet of red light soared past Snape's head, who shouted, "Run, Draco!" and turned upon Harry.

"_Stupefy_!" Rebecca said, her wand aimed at Thorfinn, who was still shouting curses at Hagrid. The Death Eater dropped, but Hagrid looked a bit harmed, but no worse for the wear. Rebecca sprinted past, seeing that Harry and Severus were now standing off.

"_Cruc_—"

Snape parried the curse, knocking Harry backward off his feet before he could complete his spell. Rebecca finally reached him, checking him over. Severus had not harmed him, merely blocked the curse. She looked up to him, to see he was leaving. Draco had already Apparated from the scene, as she didn't see him anywhere.

Harry rose quickly, Rebecca tugging at his arm. He pulled away from her. "_Cruc_—"

Severus blocked the spell again, sneering. "No Unforgiveable Curses from you, Potter!" he shouted. "You haven't got the nerve or the ability—"

"Rebecca, a little help here," Harry said, looking to her. He turned back to Severus. "_Incarc_—"

Severus deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm. Rebecca stood as Harry fell back again. She and Severus stared at one another. Her wand shook in her hand as she raised it.

"Fight back!" Harry screamed from behind her. "Fight back, you coward!"

Severus pointed his wand back at Rebecca, unsure if she would actually duel him. "Coward, did you call me, Potter?" he shouted. "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"

Harry struggled to his feet, now. Severus looked back to Rebecca, who said, "I'm sorry."

A red light came from her wand, but it was blocked quickly. This allowed Harry time to stand up and cast his own spell.

"_Stupe_—"

"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" shouted Severus, deflecting the curse once more.

Rebecca cast another spell at him, which he deflected. She was not putting her heart into the duel, as he knew she wouldn't. She was putting on a show for Potter.

The Carrows were sprinting toward them, having been revived by none other than Bellatrix. They were reviving Thorfinn.

"_Come_!" he shouted to them. "It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up!"

"_Impedi_—"

Harry cried out, and he was under the Cruciatus Curse, courtesy of Amycus Carrow. Bellatrix was staring at her, and Rebecca put up a Shield Charm just as the Death Eater sent a curse at her.

"No!" roared Severus. "Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord—we are to leave him! Go! Go!"

Rebecca saw the curse end, but her own duel with Bellatrix had just begun.

"You can't win, little Mudblood," Bellatrix crooned at her, flicking her wand lazily. Another spell launched itself at her, and Rebecca deflected it easily.

Suddenly, Severus was standing beside Bellatrix. Rebecca waited, another Shield Charm up and waiting, watching.

"I said, 'go,'" Severus growled at Bellatrix.

"But the Mudblood—"

"Leave her to me."

Bellatrix turned and sneered at Rebecca, who kept her face neutral. The woman turned and ran after the others toward the gate. Severus turned to Rebecca.

"You will have to come to a decision," Severus said loudly, his wand pointed toward the ground. "Stay with them or join us."

Rebecca shook her head.

Harry lifted himself slightly off the ground, wand pointed at Snape. "_Sectum_—!"

Severus whirled around, flicking his wand, and the spell was deflected. Rebecca raised her wand to cast another curse, but silently, she was Stunned. Rebecca fell to the ground.

There was a moment's silence, then he spoke again. "No, Potter!" she heard him scream. There was a loud BANG, and Rebecca saw Harry soar backward, hitting the ground hard. His wand flew out of his hand. Severus approached Harry.

Rebecca fought against the Stunning Spell, as she had been trained to do. She could move her legs, but slightly.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them—I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so… _no_!"

Harry had dived for his wand; Severus shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.

"Kill me, then," said Harry, panting. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward—"

"DON'T—" screamed Severus, and his face was suddenly demented, inhuman, as though he was in pain. "CALL ME COWARD!

And he slashed at the air; Harry was slammed backward into the ground. As Rebecca realized she could move her arms, she saw that her friend was knocked out. Severus was approaching her now. Hagrid still looked woozy from the amount of spells he had taken from the Death Eater, and the others had already Disapparated. She was not afraid. She looked up at him. His face was still contorted in his pain.

Severus knelt closer to her, removing the Stunning Spell. Rebecca sat up, staring into his eyes.

"I will explain everything you heard as soon as I can," he said. "If I am able to." He paused.

He could not say the apology that was on the tip of his tongue. But that was not who he was. The way she was looking at him was unsettling.

Rebecca nodded. "I know what you want to say. It's not your fault, Pro—Severus," she said firmly. "It's okay."

"Are you all right?"

Rebecca nodded.

"Then I must leave," he said, standing. He began walking away from her, his robes billowing behind him.

"Goodbye, Severus," Rebecca called after him, managing to stand on her still shaky legs.

He turned, watching her for a long time. There was a commotion from the Entrance Hall.

"Goodbye, Rebecca," he said. "Good luck."

"You too. Be safe."

He nodded slightly, then turned quickly, making his way from the scene. He made it to the gate, then Disapparated immediately.

Rebecca reached for the locket he had given her. It had not protected her from his Stunning Spell, but perhaps it was because of the power behind his spell. She quickly went to Harry, just as Hagrid was finally coming to his senses.

Rebecca sat inside the Infirmary. Though she was not injured, she did not want to go back to the Slytherin common room, and none of the professors were about to make her. Nor did she want to go to the Gryffindor common room. She wasn't sure if she would be able to hold herself back.

Having observed everything inside the Infirmary just after it had all happened, Rebecca thought about everything that had occurred. Tonks and Remus were going to end up together, as she suspected. He was wandering about outside the door, making sure no secondary attack was scheduled. He wouldn't go home; he was avoiding the conversation he knew Tonks wanted to have.

Now, she was watching over Bill, unable to sleep. Fleur was in the bed with him, snuggling up next to him. Her love had been tested and found more than enough tonight. It was touching, and, as Professor McGonagall had pointed out, Albus would have enjoyed more love in the world.

Rebecca toyed with the locket, moving it back and forth rhythmically on its chain. The clinking sound was soothing.

The door opened, and Remus entered. He came over and sat on the bed next to her.

"Are you all right?"

She turned slowly and looked at him.

"No."

Remus sighed. "Dumb question, I know," he said quietly. "You've been through a lot tonight."

Rebecca shook her head. "Why didn't you go home with Tonks?"

"I was needed here, Tonks can wait. Why are you so angry? This isn't like you."

"Why are you pushing her away?" Rebecca asked. "She just wants to love you."

Remus shook his head. "There are some things you just wouldn't understand."

"Albus believed in love," Rebecca said sternly, emphasizing each word. She felt the tears come to her eyes. "You shouldn't be here."

Remus took her by the arm and made her stand up with him. He walked them out the door of the Infirmary just as Rebecca began breaking down.

Remus shut the door quickly as Rebecca slid down the wall, hiding her face in her hands. Remus knelt down next to her.

"You don't know what you're talking about right now, Becca, you've been through lots of trauma tonight," he said. "It's just now catching up with you. Don't take what's happened to you out on me."

"Don't push her away," Rebecca said. "This war—all of this—it makes things happen too fast." She looked up at him, tears still streaming down her face.

Rebecca looked terrifying when she was on the edge of losing her mind.

"I know that Severus was your mentor," Remus said, keeping his voice even. "It's tough to come to terms when someone who you thought you knew shows their true colors."

"Don't change the subject!" Rebecca snapped at him. "We're not. Talking. About Severus."

Remus paused. He blinked at her a few times. "Rebecca, you're definitely not okay right now."

"I realize that," Rebecca said, turning to face him. "But just listen to me. Go to Tonks."

"But—"

"Stop!" Rebecca said. "People are dead. _Albus_ is dead. This war is turning for the worst. Everything we knew as truths don't exist anymore. No one is safe."

Remus stopped talking. He was staring at her.

"If you love her at all, you'll go to her," Rebecca said. "This is something you can't wait on, Remus. Albus would tell you to do the same thing."

"Rebecca, I—"

"I can handle things here if anything happens in the castle," Rebecca said quickly, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "But they're not coming back tonight. They got what they wanted."

"Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself?" Remus asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"There's nothing you can do for me," Rebecca said, smiling when she looked up at him.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

"Because there's so much _you_ don't understand," Rebecca said.

They stared at one another for a long minute.

"Go to Tonks," Rebecca said.

Remus nodded, standing. "I'm sorry I don't understand, Becca," he said, looking down at her.

"You wouldn't want to," she replied. "Trust me."

"Good night, Becca."

"Night, Remus."

She watched him walk down the hallway before standing and returning back into the Infirmary herself.

* * *

_The Funeral, mid-June 1997_

Rebecca wore a transfigured version of the dress she had worn to Slughorn's Christmas party. The dress was still the same dark green color, but it was much more modest. Her hair she wore out of her ponytail, letting it hang about her face. She still had on the bracelet, which held Fawkes' transfigured feather as its jewel. Severus' locket hung from her neck. When Slughorn came to pick up the remaining Slytherins, as many parents had come in the days after Dumbledore's death to take their children away, Rebecca touched the locket for strength.

Everyone was extremely solemn. There were many speeches being made, but most of the words seemed meaningless now. Rebecca had requested her own time to speak, which Professor McGonagall had approved. She was the only student speaking, she was informed.

"And I know I don't have to tell you to be mindful of what you say, Miss Felan," the acting Headmistress had told her.

Rebecca waited her turn, and it finally came: right at the very end. She stood as the short man in black robes moved away from Albus' body, which was laying out neatly on a porcelain table before the crowd of people and magical creatures who had come to pay their respects. This was also being broadcast over the air, for those who could not make it to the funeral itself, so that meant only more ears would be listening.

She made her way up the aisle quickly, all eyes on her. She had cried so much recently she was certain she had very few tears left to shed. When she reached the front row, where the most esteemed mourners were sat, she saw Minister Scrimgeour give her an appraising look.

Standing in front of the Headmaster's body was something she had hoped she would never have to experience. She touched his hand before turning to face the audience.

"For… those of you who don't know me, my name is Rebecca Felan," she said. "I'm a student of Slytherin House."

There was a quiet murmur among the crowd, but it settled quickly.

"I wanted to pay my respects to Headmaster Dumbledore because I thought he was a great man," she continued, looking at her feet for a moment before gaining enough strength to look again at the crowd. "He showed me compassion where very few had any, and gave me courage and hope when I felt there was little. I don't mean to claim that I knew the Headmaster very much at all, but he meant a lot to this muggleborn student."

She smiled a bit. There was another murmur among the crowd.

"There's… very little I can say to add to the wonderful words others have already said about Dumbledore. So, I thought I would reiterate a belief the Headmaster felt was above all others: the idea of love."

She fidgeted a bit.

"Although I have very good friends, not many people know that when I'm stressed and need to calm down, I sing," Rebecca said, meeting Harry and the other Gryffindors' eyes. "There's a song a muggle singer made famous a couple of years ago. It was an international hit. I was intrigued by it, and I find it fitting now, particularly because of Dumbledore's beliefs."

She turned around to look at Albus for a moment before continuing.

"Headmaster Dumbledore believed that love could overcome anything," she said. "Love is the most powerful magic of all, and that is something that Dark Wizards cannot understand. Although we can all admit that Dumbledore had his eccentricities, I think it is safe to assume that in this belief he was right. That is why this song is so fitting, I think. It may sound sad, but if you apply it to the Headmaster, and perhaps what he could have been thinking when he did pass, you may see the hope in it."

She paused to lick her lips and straighten her posture.

"This song is a dedication to Albus Dumbledore," she said. "But I'd like to think that, in a way, this is a dedication from Albus Dumbledore to the rest of us who are left without him. This song is called 'I Will Always Love You.'"

Rebecca felt her heartbeat increase. She was not going to sing with music. Everyone watched her intently.

"If… I should stay, I would only be in your way," Rebecca sang, drawing out the last word. She looked at Harry, who was staring at her with astonishment. "So I'll go… but I know, I'll think of you every step of… the way."

Rebecca knew that this would be the difficult part. She was trying not to think too hard about the words and their meaning, pushing back the emotions that were coming with those meanings.

"And I… will always… love you. I will always love you. You, my darling you. Hmm."

Those in the audience were responding well, with tears, showing they understood. She continued.

"Bittersweet… memories, that is all I'm taking with me… So, goodbye. _Please_, don't cry. We both know I'm not what you, you need."

Rebecca put more power into her voice for the chorus, attempting to convey her emotions through song instead of with tears. "And I will always love you. I will always love you."

She paused a moment to catch her breath. Most of the audience was moved by her song, with tears flowing down their cheeks or tears being barely stifled.

"I hope life treats you kind. And I hope you have all you've dreamed of. And I wish to you, joy and happiness. But above all this, I wish you love…"

The last part of the song was the most taxing, as she had to put the remainder of her power int singing. Rebecca did not even know if her voice could truly handle it, but she supposed it didn't matter in the end.

"And I will always love you. I will always love you. I will always love you. I will always love you. I will always love you. I, I will always love you. You, darling, I love you. Ooh, I'll always, I'll always love you…"

Applause came as soon as she was finished. Rebecca was panting for breath, realizing that there was a tear falling toward her chin. She nodded to the crowd before turning back to the Headmaster, lying unmoving on the table.

She approached him, the crowd still applauding, and knelt next to him.

"The Architect," she whispered, knowing he could not hear her, "I figured it out. It says things are going to change. The plans you made for me are not going to be what happen." She touched his hand again. "Thank you, Albus. For everything." She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Goodbye."

She stood, turning from him, just barely able to stave off the tears. The table erupted into flames, causing a bit of a stir in the audience. When the flames cleared, the porcelain table had turned into a tomb, securing Albus Dumbledore within it forever.

Voldemort flicked his wand. The wizarding radio turned off in the middle of the reporter from the scene of the funeral. His eyes moved to Severus.

"A very moving song," he said. "And such a pretty voice for a Mudblood."

Severus made no response.

"Can she be persuaded?" Voldemort asked.

The table at Malfoy Manor was full of Death Eaters, including Draco and Narcissa, neither of which had the Mark; they were, however, the hosts of everyone present.

"She is weak right now, my Lord," Severus replied quietly. "Knowing her as I do, she will be confused by Dumbledore's death, particularly since she witnessed it."

"Yes," Voldemort said. "Curious that you did not bring her with you."

"Potter appeared. There was little I could do."

"She fought you afterward," Voldemort observed, having seen Severus' memory.

"Yes, but it was half-hearted," Severus replied. Not an outright lie. "She has told me she trusts me. She respects me because I have given her extra assignments that challenge her intellect. When I killed Dumbledore, it left her mind at odds."

Voldemort considered what Severus had to say. "The girl is strong-willed."

"All the better when she breaks," Bellatrix said, pounding her fist on the table.

"She _will_ convert without being broken," Severus said with a look Bellatrix's way. He looked back to Voldemort. "She will be a powerful ally. She has mastered non-verbal magic and has passed her Apparition test with ease. She is an excellent duelist when she is actually attempting to harm the person who is attacking her, as I believe Bellatrix discovered last year at the Department of Mysteries. With a little more training, who knows the power she could have?"

"You say… she _trusts_ you, Severus?" Voldemort asked, a wicked grin coming to his face.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus said with a nod.

"Does she _love_ you?" Voldemort asked, grinning wickedly. The Death Eaters chuckled.

Severus blinked. "I… I had not thought of that possibility, my Lord."

"It would make things much simpler if she _loved_ you," Voldemort continued. "She might then be more willing to choose our side… to take the Mark, even."

"My Lord!" Bellatrix said, standing. "A Mudblood with the Dark Mark? Only the Inner Circle, your most prized followers, have the pleasure to be Marked so."

"My dear Bellatrix, it is a possibility the girl will not even willingly join us," Voldemort said condescendingly. "If that is the case, she will merely be Severus' pet, as I promised him so. My most dedicated follower has been ungifted for a long time. Considering her likeness to your other Mudblood pet, Severus, I find her a fitting present."

"And I thank you, my Lord, for her when she comes to me," Severus said. He had to repress the chill that went down his spine. Other ideas were forming in his head, ones that would protect Rebecca. He would need to implement them soon, in case Rebecca needed an alternative to wandering about aimlessly with the Gryffindors.

"She is such a fascinating Mudblood," Voldemort said, watching the radio, as if he saw Rebecca Felan in it. "I do hope she chooses to cooperate."

"I will do my best, my Lord."

"As you always do, Severus. As you always do."

* * *

_After the Funeral, mid-June 1997_

They were going to Bill and Fleur's wedding—all of them. Once that was established, silence fell over the group of the four of them. Harry wanted to go hunt the Horcruxes, and Ron and Hermione were going with him, they said emphatically. Rebecca toyed with the silver instrument in her hand. Harry was watching her.

"Do you want to come with us, Becca?" Ron asked suddenly. "With you and Hermione, nothing would slip past us." He smiled.

"I want to come with you," Rebecca said slowly, turning the Architect over and over as she spoke. "But I don't think I'm supposed to."

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked.

"What did it tell you?" said Harry, nodding toward the instrument.

Rebecca set it on the floor and thought about the upcoming year. The tiny, silver pins began spinning. Soon, it began shooting puffs of smoke into the air.

"I've asked about the hunt for Horcruxes over and over again," Rebecca said. "And I'm not there. But when I ask about Hogwarts, I'm there."

"But Dumbledore didn't explicitly say that the Architect can read into the future," Hermione said.

"He did call it his own personal Seer," said Rebecca, looking up at her. She pointed to the silver instrument. "The smoke shaped like a crest, that's Hogwarts."

Another puff of smoke, shaped like a snake.

"That represent Snape," Rebecca said, looking up at Harry. "Smoke like Dumbledore's glasses means Headmaster."

"How do you know all this?" Ron asked, squinting at the objects in the smoke as she talked about them.

"It's taken me a long time," Rebecca said. "But Dumbledore told me all the shapes have specific meanings for each of the Architect's owners. I've stared at it long enough to be able to interpret it."

"So what it's saying is that Snape is going to be Headmaster," said Harry, watching as Dumbledore's glasses moved to hover over the snake.

Rebecca nodded. "Exactly."

Another puff of smoke.

"The wolf is me," Rebecca said, pointing at it.

"The wolf's walking toward the crest," Hermione said. She looked to Rebecca.

"I'm supposed to be at Hogwarts," the redhead said.

The crest hovered over the snake with the glasses. The wolf continued toward the snake and sat next to it. The snake began to slither its way around the wolf.

"W-what does that mean?" Ron asked, glancing quickly to the Slytherin.

"I have to go back to Hogwarts in order to get close to Snape," Rebecca said, watching the smoke continue to move. "I have to keep playing the spy… against the spy who taught me everything."

"And turned murderer," Harry added.

"But that's dangerous," Hermione said.

"Running from everyone is dangerous," Rebecca said. "Especially if Tom ends up taking over the Ministry, which is looking more and more likely with Dumbledore dead."

"We won't be able to keep in contact as easily if you're not with us," Harry said.

"If we can talk to her at all," Ron said.

"If I'm at Hogwarts, I'll be able to help you," Rebecca said. "We'll find a way to communicate. I'll do my part for wizarding kind, and so will you lot."

Rebecca looked to the floor, snatching the Architect from the ground. The clouds of smoke stopped erupting from the instrument.

"How can you be okay with this?" Harry asked, glaring at her. "You're gonna have to stay here, with _him_, doing… whatever spy things you have to do. You're not reacting. What is wrong with you, Becca?"

"I'm repressing the emotions I'm feeling right now for the benefit of my friends!" Rebecca yelled, standing.

Not completely true, and not completely false, either. However, it got the reaction that she wanted. The three Gryffindors stood watching her, silent.

"This is something I have to do," Rebecca said, lowering her voice. "I'm doing this to help you, to help everyone. It doesn't matter how I feel about it. This is what's good for everyone else. This will be worth it in the end. When Tom's dead, this will all be over. We'll have won, and everyone that deserves it will be in Azkaban. Until then, we have to do what we have to in order to make that happen." She paused, watching them. "Now, are you gonna support me or not?"

"We'll always support you, Becca," Harry said immediately. Ron and Hermione agreed quickly.

"Good," Rebecca said. "Just remember that when everything's said and done."

"We'll always be your friend, Rebecca," Hermione said.

"I'll be sure to help you three as much as I can," Rebecca said, nodding. "I promise."


	7. Seventh Year, Part 1: The Summer

**Chapter Seven- Part 1: Summer**

**Author's Note:** Just so y'all know I haven't died or quit on this story, here's the first part of Chapter 7, which is going to be a long one. I've been working on this chapter for Merlin knows how long. The second part should, hopefully, be up by the end of the summer, but we'll see, as there's still a looooong way to go on Part 2: September-December. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything except Rebecca. If you see any parts that look familiar, they came from _Harry Potter and the Deathy Hallows_.

* * *

_Into Hiding, late June 1997_

Alastor nearly continued pounding on Rebecca's front door even after she answered it. He looked immediately relieved when he saw her and stepped inside, allowing Kingsley Shacklebolt inside after him before shutting the door.

"Alastor, what's going on?" she asked.

"We've just received an anonymous tip that Death Eaters will be after you and your parents soon," Alastor said. "There's little time to explain. Your folks and brother here?"

"Yeah, in the living room."

Alastor stormed into the room where her parents and older brother were watching the news. Roger Felan stood quickly.

"Rebecca, what have I told you about letting these people inside my house?"

"Mr. Felan, you and your family are in grave danger," Alastor said, putting on his no-nonsense expression. His magical eye was spinning rapidly in its socket, checking for threats everywhere at once. "We need to move you to a safe house immediately."

"I don't understand," said Emily, hand to her heart.

"I've brought my associate, Kingsley Shacklebolt, to take you, your husband, and son to a safe house," Alastor continued.

"What about Rebecca?" Emily asked, looking to her daughter.

"She'll be coming with me," Alastor said, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "She's needed elsewhere."

"To help with the war?" Emily asked, a pleading look in her eye.

Rebecca nodded. She held her mother's gaze for a long moment before her father broke the silence, a hand on his son's shoulder.

"We're not going anywhere with you lot," he said sternly.

"Dad, maybe we should listen to them," said Nicholas.

"No we're bloody not!"

Rebecca stepped forward before Alastor could say anything else. "Dad, you don't understand how bad these people are," she said. "I've met the worst of them."

"Becca, what are you talking about?" Emily asked, moving toward her.

"I've been keeping things from you the past two years," Rebecca continued, stepping away from her mother. "And it's put you in danger." She glanced her father's way. "I know you don't like me, and I'm not particularly fond of you either, but I won't have you killed because of me. Go with Kingsley before I make you." She narrowed her eyes.

"Like hell you will," Roger said, almost sneering at her. "I don't believe a word of this."

"You'll thank me for this when you're safe," Rebecca said. "_Stupefy_."

Roger was knocked unconscious, back onto the couch. Nicholas stepped quickly away from him, looking between Rebecca and their father.

"You don't even have your wand!" he said. "You have to have a wand to do magic. You said!"

"I'm a bit past the wand stage, Nic," Rebecca said. "Now start packing. The Death Eaters could be here at any minute."

"Death Eaters?" Emily asked, moving from her husband's side after checking his pulse. He was still alive, just knocked out, which she admitted silently was probably for the best.

"I will explain while I help you pack," Kingsley said, stepping forward.

"Get your things, Becca," Alastor growled. "Hurry up. I'll keep watch."

Rebecca rushed up the stairs and quickly gathered all of her belongings up and into the bag Hermione had given her for her birthday. She was back down the stairs and with Alastor in a matter of minutes. Her mother and brother soon joined them.

"Mum," Rebecca said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Becca, it's okay," Emily said, stepping forward to hug her. "There are so many things I wish I could tell you."

"No time!" Alastor called, his eye still spinning.

"I do love you, Becca," Emily said. "And I know your father does, too."

"I believe you," Rebecca said, though it made her stomach churn to say that and what she knew she had to say next. "I love you, too."

"I'll never make fun of you again, I swear," Nicholas said, stepping toward her. "Sorry, little Becca." He made to tussle her hair, like he would have done when she was smaller, but stopped, grabbing her around the shoulders and pulling her to him. "Love you, sis."

"Nic, you're crushing me," Rebecca muttered against his chest.

He released her. "Sorry."

"And I love you, too, even if you were an ass to me sometimes," Rebecca said with a smirk.

Kingsley levitated Roger toward the group. "We must go," he said. "The Portkey I made will activate soon."

"Goodbye, Becca," Emily said.

"Bye, Mum, Nic," Rebecca said, waving as they went through the door.

"Be safe."

"I wish I could promise that," Rebecca said under her breath.

After a moment, they were all gone. Alastor looked to her. "We'll need to put up some wards and alarms before we leave, to tell us who's been here when we've left. Care to help?"

Rebecca nodded, and the two set to work quickly. Five minutes later, the house was secured and they were ready to leave. They stood out in the backyard.

"Where to?" Rebecca asked.

"Side-along today, I'm afraid," Alastor said, taking her by the shoulder. "Wouldn't want to tell any Death Eaters listening where we're going. Hold on."

Rebecca latched onto his jacket. She hated side-along. Closing her eyes, she felt the tugging sensation at her stomach. She and Alastor were tumbling through the world at a rapid pace. Almost as soon as it began, it stopped.

"The Burrow," Rebecca said as she opened her eyes. "Of course."

Alastor shrugged. "Better to be safe than sorry."

"Constant vigilance, I know," Rebecca said with a roll of her eyes.

They approached the house quickly. Remus emerged, wand pointed at Alastor.

"The last thing you told me before leaving," Remus demanded.

"You'd be risking too much coming with us," Alastor said.

Remus lowered his wand. "Welcome back," he said. "I trust everything went well?"

"Becca Stunned her father to get him to cooperate," Alastor said, limping toward the front door of the Burrow.

Remus raised an eyebrow at her.

"He's an arrogant jerk," Rebecca grumbled. "He's lucky I wasn't doing it all summer just for fun."

Remus chuckled a bit before clapping her on the shoulder. "I assume Alastor didn't tell you the good news?"

"Little time when we're afraid Death Eaters are coming to snatch her up any moment," Alastor growled.

"What news?" Rebecca asked, looking to Remus.

"Tonks and I are getting married next month."

"That's great!" She beamed with joy.

"We're staying here until it happens. This is the safest place."

"And we're happy to have _two_ weddings at the house!" Mrs. Weasley said as they entered the kitchen. "Hello, Becca, dear. Come in and get yourself cleaned up for supper."

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Rebecca said, smiling. "Are the others here yet?"

"No, but I'm sure Hermione will be along shortly. Ron just got an owl from her last week asking if she could stay with us until school started." Mrs. Weasley snorted. "As if she needs to ask permission."

And so the lying began. Rebecca knew her friends weren't going to school for their final term. But she would be. She had to. Remus noted her neutral expression and looked at her quizzically.

"So, what's for dinner?" Rebecca suddenly asked, perking up.

Something inside Alastor's pocket began wailing, interrupting Mrs. Weasley's reply. Alastor pulled it out and pressed the object's side, making it stop.

"Looks like we got you out just in time, Becca," he said.

"Death Eaters? Already?" Rebecca asked.

Alastor nodded slowly. "They'll be ransacking your house now. Hope your parents didn't like their furniture too much."

Rebecca sat down heavily in a chair. "What did they want with me?"

"The source said that there's new information about your heritage," Alastor said. "But he or she said nothing more."

"My heritage?" Rebecca asked, furrowing her brow.

"It appears that you might have some wizarding blood in you after all," Alastor replied.

"Who?" Rebecca said, standing again and approaching him. "Who am I related to, Alastor?"

He stared at her and waited a long time before responding.

"The Blacks."

Rebecca stopped, barely able to breath. "I… I'm related to Sirius?"

"And me," Tonks said, entering the kitchen. "And the Malfoys, since Narcissa married into them. And Bellatrix," she added sourly. "That's why they want you, Rebecca."

"B-because I have pure blood in me?" Rebecca stammered.

Tonks nodded. "You'd be surprised how far blood goes with them."

"Did the source tell you anything else?"

"No," Alastor said. "We'll keep you safe as long as we can. You may not be able to go back to Hogwarts this year, not the way things are looking now."

Rebecca nodded silently. Ron entered the kitchen as the room went silent.

"It's not the end of the world," he said, going toward his friend. "At least you'll be here with us this summer." He smiled.

Rebecca managed to smile back up at him. "Thanks, Ron." At least he lied fairly convincingly.

"Let's not think about all this right now," said Mrs. Weasley. "I want everyone out of my kitchen. I need to get dinner ready before Arthur gets home."

_Hermione Arrives, early July 1997_

The sound of someone Apparating just outside the front door of the Burrow made Rebecca jump up from her seat. Remus was already at the door, Tonks close behind him. They saw Hermione approaching them. Remus made to draw his wand, but Rebecca waved him off, approaching the girl instead.

Hermione was in tears. Rebecca wanted to hug her and ask her what was wrong, but she had to steel her emotions for now.

"What was the first thing you said to me when I told you I was a spy for the Order?" Rebecca asked evenly.

Hermione caught on quickly, as she always did. She wiped her eyes before replying, "I said, 'Of course you are.'"

Rebecca smiled and went to her the rest of the way, hugging her. Though she still did not like to touch other people, Rebecca felt herself slowly becoming more comfortable again with her friends and those in the Order.

"What's the matter?" she asked as they began walking back toward the Burrow. As soon as Rebecca had hugged Hermione, Remus and Tonks had gone back inside.

"I erased my parents' memories," Hermione whispered.

"Why?" Rebecca asked, stopping.

"To protect them."

"They could have gone to an Order safe house."

"I didn't want them to," Hermione said, shaking her head. "That would raise suspicion on the Order's end. I don't want anyone to even think to know what we're doing."

"I won't tell anyone."

"I know you won't, Becca."

"You'll have to stop crying before we go into the house or people _will_ ask questions, though," Rebecca said.

"I know, I'd make a terrible spy," Hermione said.

They both burst into laughing. The Gryffindor wiped at her eyes for only a few moments more before refreshing her looks with a quick spell.

"There," she said. "Has Harry arrived?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Alastor's concocting a plan to retrieve him soon, though," she told her friend. "And a secondary one involving Polyjuice Potion. He asked me to make it the first night I got here. Wanna help? We're at your favorite part."

Hermione smirked. "Sure."

The two went inside the house, where Hermione was greeted by its occupants and told of the wedding set to take place within the next week. The two girls and Ron retreated to Rebecca's room, where she had been brewing the potion.

"Ugh, it smells wretched," Ron said as soon as he entered. "No wonder Mum let you have your own room this time."

Rebecca took out the handkerchief Severus had given her, its appearance changed slightly, though not its smell. She tied it around her nose and mouth, leaning over the potion.

"It's not the most pleasant time during its brewing, but it has to be done," she said. "It needs to boil for a few more minutes before I can add anything else to it."

She leaned away from it before casting Silencing Charms around the room.

"Have you been keeping up with wizarding world news since you've been at your parents?" Rebecca asked.

Hermione and Ron had covered their faces similarly. All their voices sounded a bit muffled under the cloth.

"Yes," Hermione said.

"Good, we won't have to fill you in on much," Ron said. "'Cept the fact that Rebecca might be related to the Blacks."

"What?" Hermione nearly shouted, her eyes widening as she looked between Ron and Rebecca.

"That was pretty much my reaction," Rebecca said.

"Was not," said Ron, glancing at her. "You were shocked silent."

"That was my reaction on the inside."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"An anonymous source tipped off Alastor to the Death Eater attack on my house," Rebecca explained. "Apparently, they're coming after me because they got information from another reliable source that claims I'm part of the Black family somehow. That's all they said."

"That's… so strange," Hermione said, sitting down on the bed. "After all your time in the wizarding world, you think someone would have come forward about this earlier."

"Tell me about it," Rebecca said with a roll of her eyes. "I asked the Architect about it. It just reiterates the point I made to you two and Harry after Dumbledore's funeral. I have to go back to Hogwarts."

"What does the Order think?" Hermione asked.

"They're certain I'm staying here," Rebecca said. "I think otherwise."

"Your potion's bubbling a bit," Ron said, pointing to it.

Rebecca turned. "Shit!" she hissed, turning down the flame beneath the cauldron. "Your mum would kill me if this got everywhere. Good catch, Ron."

_Remus and Tonks' Wedding, mid-July 1997_

Days before the wedding, Mrs. Weasley sat in the living room with Rebecca, Hermione, and Ginny, attempting to teach them how to knit. All the girls were struggling a bit, but they were pretty bored. Ron and the other Weasleys were out in the yard playing a game of Quidditch. Eventually, Ginny huffed and put down the knitting needles her mother had given her.

"I'm gonna go play with the boys," she said. "It's too frustrating."

"Maybe another time, Ginny dear," sighed Mrs. Weasley as her daughter left to get her broom.

Soon, only Rebecca was left. Hermione had given up an hour earlier to go and read. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen, checking in on Rebecca every once in a while. She'd begun a scarf, but it had grown larger, which she and Mrs. Weasley had tried to rectify a few times with little success.

"How about you just make a blanket, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly. "Or at least keep knitting. You'll get the hang of it. Just remember to count your stitches."

With little else to do in the house, as the Polyjuice Potion was fine by itself for the majority of the time, Rebecca stuck with the knitting. Eventually, she could keep her rows fairly even. It was actually kind of relaxing. She understood why Mrs. Weasley didn't use magic to knit the sweaters that she did.

"What're you making?" Remus asked, smiling at Rebecca as he entered the room.

"Nothing, actually, just practicing," she replied, holding it up so she could see.

The green object in her hands grew and shrank many different times, but it was now long and narrow. They both chuckled.

"I think I'll start making a scarf for myself once I figure out how to purl," Rebecca added as she struggled with the next stitch on the needle.

"Great," Remus said, sitting in the chair across the way from her. "I had a question to ask, if you wouldn't mind, Rebecca."

"Sure."

She put down the knitting needles to give him her full attention. He looked kindly at her.

"Tonks has asked Hermione to be her Maid of Honor," Remus said. "And Ginny will be a bride's maid. I've asked Ron to be a groomsman. However, I was hoping you'd stand in as my Best Woman." He smirked.

"Oh," said Rebecca, sitting back. It was definitely a surprise. "I wouldn't have suspected—"

"Tonks thought it was a bit strange, too, but I figure it this way," Remus said, "you're Harry's best friend and you could possibly be related to Sirius, who was my best mate since we were eleven. Since neither of them are here, and considering how you're the one who convinced me to go to Tonks that night in June and stop playing dumb, you were the obvious choice."

"I'm honored, Remus," Rebecca said, grinning. "I'd be happy to."

"Before you agree completely, I want you to know that wizards call it marriage, but it's also a type of magical binding," Remus explained. "If you stand up for me as my Best Woman at the wedding, you'll be saying you have full faith in me as a person and faithful husband. The magic would punish you too if I wasn't."

Rebecca smiled. "I know you'll be a good husband to Tonks. I'm not concerned."

Remus relaxed a bit. "Just make sure to keep the speech as embarrassing as Sirius would've made it," he answered, smiling fondly at the memory of his friend.

"I'll do my best."

"You'll be fine," Remus said, standing and approaching her. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Becca."

"You're more than welcome, Remus."

The day of the wedding arrived, and Rebecca and Hermione had stayed up planning the night before. They were to walk down the aisle together, being the Best Woman and Maid of Honor. Now, they stood at the back door of the Burrow, waiting for their cue. They held one another's left hands. In Rebecca's right hand was the pillow the rings were seated on, her wand resting on her palm underneath the pillow; Hermione held her wand in her right hand. Soon, they began walking slowly as the music began. Their dresses were similar in style and color, as Remus and Tonks had opted for more neutral summer colors as opposed to bright ones. Their dresses were a soft pink color and had small trains. They'd had the trains enchanted so that pink rose petals would trail behind them on the ground.

The small crowd that had gathered (mostly Weasleys and Order members) watched them eagerly as they walked down the aisle. There were many nods and noises of approval at the flowers. Once they reached the end of the aisle, they stood to one side, waiting as Ginny and Ron made their way down the aisle next. The brother and sister separated, Ginny moving toward Hermione and Rebecca to the left and Ron to the right, to stand next to Remus, who appeared nervous, but happy.

Then the music changed to the bride's tune, of course. Rebecca looked to Hermione, who nodded at her. Both subtly pointed their wands at the bride. With their hands still clasped, their magic joined beautifully, creating small, pale yellow beams of light that danced toward the bride. The lights floated around her, trailed after her, making her glow radiantly. Tonks giggled as she made her way toward Remus, her eyes on him the entire time. Her dress was simple: pure white with a bit of beadwork and a longer train that could be easily taken up when she was dancing.

As Tonks' hand outstretched to take Remus' hand, the lights moved to enclose the two of them within their beams. Even Alastor, who was going to marry them, was smiling. This was a feature very few had seen on his face.

"We're gathered here today to join this witch and wizard together," Alastor began. "This just goes to show you that Dumbledore was always right in his assumptions: love conquers everything, even war."

He allowed a moment of pause for the sounds from the audience, who readily approved, to quiet down.

"It's been requested that I keep this ceremony on the short side, as the happy couple don't want a lot of fuss," Alastor continued. "Personally, I think they wish to get on to the more fun part of getting married…"

"Mad-Eye!" said Tonks.

"I meant the after party," Alastor said with a wink. Everyone chuckled. Alastor looked to the two girls holding the pillow. "Rebecca, Hermione, please bring the rings."

The Gryffindor and Slytherin bore the pillow carefully to the two and waited.

"Nympadora Tonks," Alastor said.

She shot him a look.

"A necessity for the binding to take place, as you well know," Alastor chided. "Nymphadora Tonks, do you take Remus John Lupin to be your bound partner for life? Do you promise to love, cherish, honor, and protect him until death do you part?"

Tonks smiled at Remus. "I do."

"Remus John Lupin, do you take Nymphadora Tonks to be your bound partner for life? Do you promise to love, cherish, honor, and protect her until death do you part?"

Remus took both of Tonks' hands in his own and squeezed, his expression open and happy. "I do."

"The rings," Alastor said, nodding toward the pillow.

Remus and Tonks reached for the rings, which were identical to the other: a simple gold band. Gently, they put the ring onto each others' ring fingers.

"Hermione, take Tonks' hand," Alastor said.

She did as she was told and waited for further instruction. The lights now encompassed the three of them.

"Hermione Jean Granger, do you represent Nymphadora Tonks in this binding?"

"I do."

"Do you swear that her motives are pure and that she will love Remus John Lupin until death do them part?"

"I swear," Hermione said, smiling as she looked between Remus and Tonks.

"Rebecca," Alastor said, nodding his head.

The redhead silently Vanished the pillow and took Remus' hand. Now, the lights floated around all of them.

"Rebecca Michelle Felan, do you represent Remus John Lupin in this binding?"

"I do." She smiled at Remus.

"Do you swear that his motives are pure and that he will love Nymphadora Tonks until death do them part?"

"I swear with all my heart," Rebecca said quietly.

"Thank you," Remus mouthed.

"You girls may step back," Alastor said.

Hermione and Rebecca moved away from the couple, taking their proper places on both sides of them: Hermione to Tonks' side and Rebecca to Remus'.

Alastor placed his hands over Remus and Tonks' clasped ones. "Let the binding begin."

Under his breath, Alastor muttered a spell. It was a chant, and Rebecca couldn't catch what he said. Blue light emanated from the clasped hands, encircling Tonks and Remus between them.

"You may kiss your bride," Alastor said, letting go of their hands and taking a step back.

The blue light and Rebecca and Hermione's enchanted lights joined together, and now a beautiful green light floated around the couple as the gap between them closed. Remus and Tonks kissed passionately, and everyone cheered loudly. The blue light disappeared once the now bound couple's lips came apart. The pale yellow light Hermione and Rebecca had created exploded into pale yellow butterflies that fluttered about the pair before going into the audience. Soon, the enchanted butterflies took up space in the bushes, alighting the Weasleys' yard in the fading light of dusk.

"Mr. and Mrs. Remus John Lupin!" shouted Alastor over the applause.

Hermione looked to Rebecca. Both raised their wands to the sky. Magical shots, firework-like, burst over the couples' heads as they stood before their small audience. Silently, Rebecca and Hermione high-fived. The applause soon died out.

"Let the celebration begin," said Alastor.

Until early the next morning, that's exactly what they did. Everything outside of the Weasleys' little yard was forgotten, though Arthur, Kingsley, Alastor, and Rebecca were on alert for danger. None came that night. The next day saw Tonks and Remus off on their short honeymoon.

When Rebecca was watching the Polyjuice Potion just after the happy couple left early that next morning, she thought of Albus and shook her head.

"I wish you could've been here to see how happy they were," she said quietly, her fingers tightening around the Architect in her pocket. "But you always knew love would find a way, even in this world."

She had helped to promote Albus' ideal, even if it was only a slight nudge. Remus would have gone to Tonks at some point over the following week of the battle, of that Rebecca was sure. She had seen the way the two had interacted and the way Tonks spoke about him had nearly made her sick at times.

"Yes, Minister, I am Dumbledore's through and through," she said to the potion, smiling.

_Moving Harry and an Explanation, July 27, 1997_

The Burrow's kitchen was nearly full to bursting with the amount of people milling around in it. Mrs. Weasley was crying on Mr. Weasley's shoulder and Ginny looked extremely angry with her arms crossed over her chest and her brows furrowed. Remus and Tonks stood together, the former holding tightly to the latter's hand as she glanced up into his face. Bill and Fleur were in a similar situation, but there was more kissing on their part. Fred and George were playing a game of wizard's chess, looking unconcerned, though she saw them glance at one another worriedly every so often. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor were speaking quietly, talking of the last minute adjustments to their original plan for moving Harry.

"I'm glad I had you make that Polyjuice Potion, Becca," Alastor had grumbled at her earlier in the day, peering into the cauldron. "It's ready, isn't it?"

She had replied in the affirmative and bottled up some of the potion for him.

Hermione, Ron, and Rebecca were standing near the entrance to the kitchen with Hagrid. The Gryffindors were speaking with one another as Rebecca watched the scene unfold before her. Alastor had informed her of the plan to make seven Harrys, her included, with the Polyjuice Potion she had made. He then asked if she would ride with him, as he guessed the Death Eaters would assume the real Harry would be with him, as he was the most powerful and experienced wizard against the Dark Arts that would be among the group. She had agreed readily.

"Becca?" she heard the half-giant say.

"Sorry, Hagrid, what?" Rebecca said, turning to face her group.

"Are yeh sure yeh'll be all righ' on a broom is wha' I was askin'," Hagrid repeated.

"I'll be okay. I've gotten a bit better practicing with Ron and everyone over the summers. I can pass for Harry."

"Ridin' with Mad-Eye'll get yeh some attention."

"That's the point," Rebecca said evenly. "If I can distract them long enough, you can get Harry back here to the Burrow faster."

Hagrid nodded his large head slowly. "Stay safe," he said. "All a yeh. I need to get the motorbike ready."

He lumbered from the room, watching his large girth as he exited. Hermione quickly looked to her Slytherin friend.

"Snape might be there tonight, Rebecca," she said quietly. "No one wants to talk about it, but I want to make sure you'll be all right. What if you encounter him?"

"I'll be fine, Hermione," Rebecca said, her eyes narrowing.

"Blimey, just give him _that_ look and he won't mess with you, Becca," Ron said.

"You two worry too much," Rebecca grumbled.

"You haven't talked about him since we've been here," Hermione told her, hands on her hips. "You've been quiet, always staring at the Architect. It can't have all the answers, Becca."

"I never implied it could." Rebecca shot the other girl a deadly glare.

"Guys, stop it," Ron said, looking between them. "What we're doing is dangerous. Can't we be mad at each other once we're all safe back here?"

His voice had a slight whiney tone to it, but Rebecca knew it was masking the true fear he felt. She softened her look before glancing back at Hermione. She sighed.

"Ron's right," she said.

"Now if only 'Mione had said it," Ron said with a slight grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes and hit him lightly on the arm. "Oh, Ron."

"Sorry, Hermione," Rebecca said. "I promise we can all talk once we're back here safely."

Before the girl could even respond, Alastor spoke up. "All right, we need to move!" he called to the room, silencing everyone immediately. "We're on a tight schedule. Disillusion yourselves, we're on our way to Harry Potter's!"

Everyone did as they were told, and they were quickly on their rides of choice. Rebecca followed the path that had been put into her head by Alastor earlier when he went over the route again and again, even leaving the map on the table so everyone could study it at leisure throughout the day. She had memorized it quickly. Soon, they were at Privet Drive, and their charms were wearing off. She landed fairly easily in Harry's back garden, glancing about for prying muggle eyes. The houses beside them were quiet in the darkness, and nothing stirred, as if the muggles themselves knew something terrible was going to happen.

The back door to number 4 Privet Drive opened and Harry hurtled out into the midst of the large group of people. Hermione cried out as she embraced Harry. Ron clapped Harry on the back, and Rebecca gave him a smile.

"All righ', Harry? Ready fer the off?" said Hagrid.

"Definitely," said Harry, beaming around at them all. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"

"Change of plan," growled Alastor, who was holding two enormous, bulging sacks, and whose magical eye was spinning from darkening sky to house to garden with dizzying speed. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."

Harry led them into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, they settled on chairs, sat themselves upon gleaming work surfaces, or leaned up against spotless appliances. Rebecca sat on top of the counter, her legs swinging freely over the side.

"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?" Harry called across the room.

"He can get along without me for one night," said Kingsley. "You're more important."

"Harry, guess what?" said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him; a ring glittered there.

"You got married?" Harry yelped, looking from her to Remus.

Rebecca smiled.

"I'm sorry you couldn't be there, Harry, it was very quiet," Remus explained.

"That's brilliant, congrat—"

"All right, all right, we'll have time for a cozy catch-up later!" roared Alastor over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen. Alastor dropped the sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. He began to go over the plan, explaining to Harry exactly how they had come to this decision and why there was no other way to transport him back to the Burrow safely.

"However, this is You-Know-Who we're dealing with, so we can't just rely on him getting the date wrong," Alastor said after explaining about the leaked moving date. "He's bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case. So, we've given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place we're going to hide you, they've all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingsley's place, Molly's Aunt Muriel's—you get the idea."

"Yeah," said Harry.

"You'll be going to Tonks' parents. Once you're within the boundaries of the protective enchantments we've put on their house, you'll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?"

"Er—yes," said Harry. "Maybe they won't know which of the twelve secure houses I'm heading for at first, but won't it be sort of obvious once" –he performed a quick headcount— "fourteen of us fly off toward Tonks' parents'?"

"Ah," said Alastor. "I forgot to mention the key point. Fourteen of us won't be going to Tonks' parents'. There will be seven Harry Potters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a companion, each pair heading for a different safe house."

From inside his cloak Alastor now withdrew a flask of what looked like mud.

"No!" Harry said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. "No way!"

"I told them you'd take it like that," said Hermione with a hint of complacency.

"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives—!"

"—because it's the first time for all of us," said Ron.

"This is different, pretending to be me—"

"Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry," said Fred earnestly. "Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever."

Harry did not smile.

"You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair."

"Well, that's that plan scuppered," said George. "Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."

"Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance," said Fred.

"Funny," said Harry, "really amusing."

"If it has to come to force, then it will," growled Alastor, his magical eye now quivering a little in its socket as he glared at Harry. "Everyone here's overage, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk."

Rebecca had had enough of this chatter. She silently slipped from her place on top of the counter and walked up behind Harry. Raising her hand quickly, she yanked out a few of his hairs. Harry barked out a sudden cry of pain and turned about to stop her, but Rebecca was already out of his reach by the time he was flailing at her.

"Harry, that's enough," she said evenly. "We're doing this whether you want us to or not." She handed the hairs to Alastor, who put them in the potion, closed the lid, and stirred it up a bit. "We all love you, Harry, and we want to see you out of this war alive. This is the only way we can help you."

Her eyes were pleading, and Harry sighed. "Well, you have my hair. Get on with it, then."

"Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please," said Alastor.

Ron, Hermione, Rebecca, Fred, George, and Fleur lined up where the old Auror had indicated as he pulled out six eggcup-sized glassed from inside his cloak. He then handed them out before pouring a little Polyjuice Potion into each one.

"You have Rebecca's skills to thank for this potion," he said as he poured. "At least we know we can trust it."

All the decoy Harrys looked to her and she nodded reassuringly.

"Altogether, then…" said Alastor.

The six of them gulped down the vile-tasting potion, which had turned a clear, bright gold color after Harry's hair had been placed into it. Rebecca shot upward a bit, her chest lost its curves, as did her hips. Her hair grew shorter and much, much darker. Her eyes remained the same color, she knew. She felt her face contorting and stretching into Harry's, and she grunted at the discomfort. Everyone around her was either shrinking or growing, changing shapes and hair and eye colors. Soon, her clothes felt a bit loose in some places and tight in others. Her shoes definitely didn't fit anymore, and she quickly toed them off, relieving some of the pressure.

Fred and George turned to each other and said together, "Wow—we're identical!"

"I dunno, though, I think I'm still better-looking," said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle.

"Bah," said Fleur, checking herself in the microwave door, "Bill, don't look at me—I'm 'ideous."

"Those whose clothes are a bit roomy, I've got smaller here," said Alastor, indicating the first sack, "and vice versa. Don't forget the glasses, there's six pairs in the side pocket. And when you're dressed, there's luggage in the other sack."

Rebecca reached for the bag of clothes first, pulling out whatever she saw first, as they were all identical. Quickly, she stripped down and pulled the clothes over her.

"I knew Ginny was lying about the tattoo," said Ron, looking down at his bare chest.

"Harry, your eyesight really is awful," said Hermione as she put on glasses.

Rebecca did so as well, and the world came back into focus. She stood next to Harry.

"It'll be all right, I promise," she told him quietly.

"I hope you're right," Harry said with a sigh.

"I'm riding with Alastor," she admitted, and he looked to her. "I'll imitate you as best I can, just be safe."

"You too, Becca."

She nodded once.

Once dressed, the fake Harrys took rucksacks and owl cages, each containing a stuffed snowy owl, from the second sack.

"Good," said Alastor, as at last seven dressed, bespectacled, and luggage-laden Harrys faced him. "The pairs will be as follows: Rebecca will be traveling with me, by broom."

Rebecca stepped forward to stand next to him. Arthur and Remus looked concerned, not having been informed of this beforehand. They did not speak, however.

"Arthur and Fred—"

"I'm George," said the twin at whom Alastor was pointing. "Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"

"Sorry, George—"

"I'm only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really—"

"Enough messing around!" snarled Alastor. Rebecca couldn't help but chuckle. "The other one—George or Fred or whoever you are—you're with Remus. Miss Delacour—"

"I'm taking Fleur on a thestral," said Bill. "She's not fond of brooms."

"Very well," said Alastor. "Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral—"

Hermione looked reassured as she answered Kingsley's smile.

"Which leaves you and me, Ron!" said Tonks brightly, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him.

Ron did not look quite as pleased as Hermione.

"An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'?" said Hagrid, looking a little anxious. "We'll be on the bike, brooms an' thestrals can't take me weight, see. Not a lot o' room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar."

"That's great," said Harry.

"We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom," said Alastor, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. "Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we're betting they'll choose one of the Potters who look at home on a broomstick." He looked to Rebecca, Fred, and George, the latter two looking very calm for once, Rebecca looking neutral as always. "All right then," he went on, tying up the sack with the fake Potters' clothes in it and leading the way back to the door, "I make it three minutes until we're supposed to leave. No point in locking the back door, it won't keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking…. Come on…."

Everyone was soon out in the garden. Broomsticks were leaping into hands; Hermione had already been helped up onto a great black thestral by Kingsley, Fleur onto another by Bill. Hagrid stood ready beside the motorbike, goggles on.

Rebecca looked long at the thestrals around her, just as she had done before leaving the Burrow. She was able to see them now, and had always wondered what they looked like. They were rather cute, but a constant reminder of what she had witnessed earlier this summer. She wished, though, that she were riding one of them instead of the broom. She had to convince herself to look comfortable, to make moves on it that she wouldn't normally. She was a witch, damn it, and she would need to play the part of Harry well enough to distract the Death Eaters they may run into from the real Harry.

"All right then," said Alastor. "Everyone ready, please; I want us all to leave at exactly the same time or the whole point of the diversion's lost."

Everybody mounted their brooms.

"Good luck, everyone," shouted Alastor. "See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One… two… THREE."

There was a great roar from the motorbike, calls from the thestrals, and the sound of kicking as everyone launched from the ground. Rebecca stayed close to Alastor, climbing higher and higher into the air, unable to see much of anyone else so steep was their climb.

And then, out of nowhere, out of nothing, they were surrounded. At least thirty hooded figures, suspended in midair, formed a vast circle in the midst of which the Order members had risen, oblivious.

Rebecca drew her wand, scowling as a Death Eater began approaching her and Alastor. She heard screaming from others, but had no time to react or even go to them.

"_Expelliarmus_!" she shouted at the Death Eater approaching her. His wand flew from him, and ten others turned from the Order members to confront them. Rebecca knew that performing that spell would do so. The other Order members flew off, having been relieved of the Death Eaters that would have tailed them.

"Good work!" Alastor called to her. "Stay close!"

He dove, and Rebecca followed him quickly. The ten Death Eaters were close behind as the she and Alastor ducked in and out of clouds. They twirled into spins, rose suddenly from their dives, and even plummeted toward Death Eaters, who flew out of their paths. The whole time, Stunning Spells and other curses flew past their heads. When the two of them finally stopped tumbling, Rebecca saw a nearby thestral, lights from spells flying about it. Within that light, she saw Bill and the Harry that was Fleur.

She looked back to Alastor, whose face had gone neutral. He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

"You-Know-Who," he said.

Rebecca looked where he was and saw the wizard flying toward them, without any aid of a broom at all. Alastor attempted to push her behind him, pointing his wand directly at the Dark Wizard. Voldemort was grinning like a madman. He believed he had found Harry Potter and was close to finishing the deed.

"Alastor," Rebecca said. "Let's lead him away. Quickly."

But the old Auror did no such thing. "It'll be all right, Becca."

"Alastor!"

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

The words from Voldemort's lips rung through the air as the jet of green light shot at Moody. Rebecca screamed incoherently, thrusting herself forward to try and get him out of the way.

"Rebecca, no!" Alastor roared, grabbing her by both shoulders and spinning around. He glared fiercely at her for her stupidity.

Then the curse hit him. As the green light from behind him lit up his features, Rebecca saw as the glare left his face, replaced with a relaxed expression. The green light disappeared, and his eyes glazed over, his body immediately going limp.

"Alastor!" she cried, trying to hold onto his body as it began falling from his broom. She grabbed his wand hand, his shoulder, but he was slipping.

She glanced up to see Voldemort approaching them quickly, vengeance gleaming in his eyes. That was when Alastor slipped from his broom, pulling Rebecca with her.

Voldemort watched them plummet. Severus was suddenly beside him, his mask gone, looking down at the falling bodies.

"Find where they have landed," the Dark Lord said to his most trusted Death Eater, eyes still the fallen Auror and Potter. "I do not believe that was Harry Potter."

"My Lord?" Severus asked, looking to him.

"This Potter attempted to protect the old man from the curse," Voldemort said. "The true Harry Potter would not have done so, of this I am certain." His red eyes bored into Severus'. "It was _her_."

Severus was silent, awaiting his orders.

"Retrieve what is yours, Severus, and what you can of the Auror," Voldemort said.

"Yes, my Lord."

Severus descended quickly.

Rebecca had slowed her and Alastor's body as they approached the ground. She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and clogging her vision as they touched the ground. His wand was still clutched in his hand, and she took it from him and placed it inside her pocket. She pulled him quickly into cover, wondering how she was going to Apparate him to his own home, where the Portkey to the Burrow awaited them, without drawing attention to herself.

She heard a noise and silenced her sniffling, glancing around quickly. From behind her, a voice spoke.

"I knew you would come tonight."

It was Severus, she was certain of it. She turned to him, unable to tear herself from Alastor's body.

He watched her for a moment. It was just as he had last left her: her face tear-stained, the drops still falling, her hair messed from the fight and wind, her green eyes—the same as Lily's— pleading with him, showing all of their sorrow. She clutched Alastor Moody's body, as if she could bring him back from death.

"Before I help you escape, I must tell you it was I who sent the message warning Alastor about the raid upon your home," he continued.

"Thank you," Rebecca whispered, her voice too shaky to fully utilize.

"I went to your mother earlier this summer to interview her while you and the rest of the family were out," Severus said, unfazed by her thanks. "You are related to the Blacks. Your mother's mother is Isla Hitchens, ancestor of the Isla Black who broke away from the Black family all those years ago and married Bob Hitchens."

Rebecca felt the tears still rolling down her face, but she let him finish. He spoke quickly and efficiently, not wanting to waste time. She was glad to see him again, glad to see that he was well and unharmed, and still helping her. Rebecca was certain he would always help her, just as sure as she knew her name.

"What is more, your grandmother's husband was a muggle by the name of Theodore Gunther," Severus said, his heart clenching at the name. "He was the twin of Lily Evans' mother, Dorothy. She married a muggle with the surname Evans. This, obviously, you cannot tell a soul, and I have kept this from all other ears. However, the Dark Lord is intrigued by your pureblood roots. At the Weasley-Delacour wedding in a few weeks' time, I will come for you. You will essentially belong to me, though you will go to live with the Malfoys. I will explain more before you are to go to them. Do you understand, Rebecca?"

"Yes," she said, her head spinning with all of this new information.

"Good, now stand."

Rebecca remained in her spot. "I can't leave him," she whispered.

Severus stared at her, thinking quickly. "Give me his eye."

"What?" Rebecca asked.

"His eye, girl, give it to me," Severus said, stepping forward. Instead of waiting for her, he knelt down next to her and took the magical object from Alastor's eye socket. "Forgive me," he whispered to the body.

Rebecca watched him and without thinking, reached out and touched his arm, needing to tell him that it was not his fault. She needed some sort of comfort, too, though it was something she wouldn't admit. She felt very much like nothing could be all right, now that Albus and Alastor were killed before her eyes. He met her gaze before glancing down at her hand on his forearm. He considered it for a moment before reaching out to touch her fingers with his free hand. He held it for only a split second before gently pushing her from him. Severus felt bad for the girl, but now was not the time for her to lose her sense.

"Take him and Disillusion the both of you," Severus ordered, standing with the magical eye in his hand. "I will make sure you are not followed."

"Pro—Severus," Rebecca said, managing to stand.

"Get out of here," he said through his teeth, sneering at her.

"Thank you," she said, looking away from him quickly. She levitated Alastor's body and then Disillusioned the both of them. Only then did Severus fly back to the Dark Lord.

Alastor had shown her a photograph of his home earlier in the day, on the off chance they were separated and she had to Apparate there. She used that photo now and focused on the image, appearing before it quickly. There were no Death Eaters in sight around the home, but Rebecca performed a few spells to reveal anyone hiding. There was no one.

She went inside, keeping the Disillusion Charm upon the two of them, unable to look at his body any longer. She looked about the living room as she sat on the couch, waiting for the Portkey to make itself known. She couldn't look around his home now. The living room was simply decorated with many books, which didn't surprise her. The piano near the window did surprise her, though, and she suddenly wished she could play, if only to relieve the quietness. She hummed then, unable to stand the silent place any longer.

Finally, a book sitting on the coffee table in front of her glowed a bright blue. Taking Alastor's hand in hers, she barely touched the book before they were transported to the Burrow.

She undid the Disillusion Charm and levitated his body, feeling the tears coming back to her now that she could see Alastor and feel his cold touch underneath her hand. She heard frantic voices in the back garden of the house. Bill was just telling them what he had seen, and now everyone was shouting. Rebecca came through the brush, Alastor's body floating silently behind her. She felt so tired, now that the adrenaline had all gone from her body. She dropped to her knees, her levitation spell giving out. She couldn't let go of his hand.

A cry went up, and she heard many people running toward her. Mr. Weasley half-heartedly pointed his wand at her.

"What did I tell the Minister last year when he was harassing you?" he asked in a half-whisper.

The rest of the crowd waited behind him as Rebecca fought for the will to answer.

"That I was like a daughter to you," she said, her heart not in the answer. "And that insulting me was insulting your family." She met his eyes, and Mr. Weasley nodded.

She was swarmed by everyone. Harry, Ron and Hermione were throwing question after question at her, hugging her. Someone was trying to pull Alastor's body away from the group. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing. Fleur was crying out about how terrible it all was.

"Stop!" Rebecca shouted, covering her ears with her hands.

Everyone stared at her.

"Just leave me alone for a bit," she said, probably a bit harshly.

She saw that it was Remus trying to pull Alastor away, along with Bill.

"Leave him," she said. "We can bury him tonight. Here, if that's all right."

She glanced up at Mr. Weasley, who nodded again.

"Just leave me here with him," Rebecca repeated. "I'll be all right."

Her friends were the last to leave her, looking to her worriedly every step of the way back to the house. They watched her from the back window. Rebecca stared at Alastor's body, barely able to process everything that had occurred. Finally, she stood, trying to locate a spot that would be a good burial site. Slowly, the others came out to help her.

They buried Alastor Mad-Eye Moody that night in a clearing in the woods near the Burrow. Together, Rebecca and a few others made his headstone. No one asked about his missing magical eye.

_Harry's Birthday and Dumbledore's Will, July 31, 1997_

Harry's birthday had been an interesting ordeal throughout the day. She hadn't been able to think of anything to give him, so instead she wrapped up Alastor's wand and waited for him to open up all of his other presents. She gave it to him when she and the Gryffindors were going back upstairs, to help Hermione finished packing.

"Here," she said, handing it to him on the staircase.

Harry looked at it curiously, then unwrapped it quickly. He recognized it immediately and glanced up at her.

"This is Mad-Eye's wand," he said.

Rebecca nodded. "I think he'd want you to have it."

"He'd probably want you to have it more," Harry said, trying to hand it back to her.

She took a step back. "You might need it more than me. Keep it as a spare. Have Hermione pack it. You never know what can happen when you're on the run."

Harry stared at the wand sadly before finally relenting. "You're right," he said. "Thank you." He gave her a smile.

"Welcome," Rebecca said, returning the expression.

The rest of the day was spent with Ron yelling at Harry about provoking Ginny into snogging him again. Rebecca chose to leave the boys for the company of Hermione, who was less interested in discussing love lives and more interested in talking to Rebecca about other things.

"You said we could talk when we got back," Hermione said, pushing things down into her bottomless beaded purse. "Now you need to talk. I saw you give Moody's wand to Harry."

Rebecca shrugged. "I thought you lot might need it more than me," she said honestly. "It would only give me away at Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded, satisfied. She stopped rummaging through her purse in order to look her fully in the face. "Snape found you that night, didn't he?"

There was a moment's pause between the two girls.

"There are some things I can't tell you," Rebecca said. "Things I've been sworn not to tell."

"Then just listen to me talk, and I'll tell you what I think," Hermione said, going back to sorting things in her purse as she spoke. "I think you're confused, Becca. You don't know what to think. Snape killed Dumbledore, there are no two ways about it. However, I understand that you were always closer to him than the rest of us. You're still a Slytherin; he was your Head of House, and your mentor when Dumbledore let you into the Order. I always stuck up for Snape because I felt like there was more good to him than originally met the eye, but now it's plan to see there wasn't."

Hermione looked at her. "I was wrong, Rebecca. We were all wrong. You can't feel like it's your fault for not seeing his true colors before."

Well, at least Hermione hadn't guessed correctly. Her logic was flawless as usual, though.

"Just don't take anything I might do this next year personally," Rebecca said, choosing to side-step the accusations as a way of "confirming" what Hermione said.

"Of course not, Becca," Hermione said, giving her friend a smile. "I won't let the boys, either. Hopefully Harry will let me send my own letters to you along with his. Ron won't write, he'll just tell me or Harry what to, I'm sure you'll know."

"His hand writing is really awful," Rebecca said, nodding.

Hermione sighed. "It is. Let's go see what the boys are up to. I'm done packing for now."

Dinner that night saw the Burrow as packed as it had been before. The Delacours, Fleur's parents, had arrived a few days beforehand for the wedding that would take place soon. They wanted to get to know their new relatives, and so far things had been going all right. Now, Tonks and Remus entered, and though he was smiling, he looked upset about something, though Rebecca couldn't quite put her finger on it. Hagrid was wearing the nicest—and ugliest—coat he owned, and gave Harry Mokeskin bag.

"Hide anythin' in there an' no one but the owner can get it out. They're rare, them," said Hagrid.

"Hagrid, thanks!" said Harry, grinning.

"'S'nothin'," said Hagrid with a wave of a dustbin-lid-sized hand. "An' there's Charlie! Always liked him—hey! Charlie!"

Charlie approached, running his hand slightly ruefully over his new, brutally short haircut. He was shorter than Ron, thickset, with a number of burns and scratches up his muscley arms. Rebecca had liked Charlie the moment he walked in the door. He was quiet at first, but once he began speaking he became very open. She'd had a few conversations with him, and Fred and George (minus one ear, courtesy of Snape) had bothered her about this.

"Getting close with our older brother, Becca?" asked Fred.

She'd shot him a glare.

"Just think of the children they'd have," George added. "Red hair all around!"

"We talk about the dragons, mostly, you two," Rebecca had grumbled at them before leaving them to chuckle amongst themselves.

"Hi, Hagrid, how's it going?" Charlie said, smiling as he approached the group.

"Bin meanin' ter write fer ages. How's Norbert doin'?"

"Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now."

"Wha—Norbert's a girl?"

"Oh yeah," said Charlie.

"How can you tell?" asked Hermione.

"They're a lot more vicious," said Charlie. He looked over his shoulder and dropped his voice. "Wish Dad would hurry up and get here. Mum's getting edgy."

They all looked over at Mrs. Weasley. She was trying to talk to Madam Delacour while glancing repeatedly at the gate.

"I think we'd better start without Arthur," she called to the garden after a moment or two. "He must have been held up at—oh!"

They all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.

"Minister of Magic coming with me."

The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur's family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished. Rebecca narrowed her eyes and looked to the garden gate, waiting for the Minister to make his entrance.

"We shouldn't be here," said Remus at once. "Harry—I'm sorry—I'll explain another time—"

He seized Tonks' wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.

"The Minister—but why—? I don't understand—"

But there was no time to discuss the matter; a second later, Mr. Weasley had appeared out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour, instantly recognizable by his mane of grizzled hair.

The two newcomers marched across the yard toward the garden and lantern-lit table, where everybody sat in silence, watching them draw closer. As Scrimgeour came within range of the lantern light, Rebecca discovered he looked much older than when they last had met, scraggy and grim.

"Sorry to intrude," said Scrimgeour, as he limped to a halt before the table. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party."

His eyes lingered for a moment on the giant Snitch cake.

"Many happy returns."

"Thanks," said Harry.

"I require a private word with you," Scrimgeour went on. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger, and Miss Rebecca Felan." His eyes rested on Rebecca for a moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a defiant look. The Minister glanced back to Harry.

"Us?" said Ron, sounding surprised. "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," said Scrimgeour. "Is there such a place?" he demanded of Mr. Weasley.

"Yes, of course," said Mr. Weasley, who looked nervous. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You can lead the way," Scrimgeour said to Ron. "There will be no need to accompany us, Arthur."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a worried look as Ron and Hermione stood up. Rebecca couldn't imagine what this could be about. But, she did know that if the Minister had somehow caught wind of her and her friends' plans, she would have no problem Obliviating him, hexing him, or doing whatever it was she had to do to get out of the situation.

Scrimgeour did not speak as they all passed through the messy kitchen and into the Burrow's sitting room. Although the garden had been full of soft golden evening light, it was already dark in here. Harry flicked his wand at the oil lamps as he entered and they illuminated the shabby but cozy room. Scrimgeour sat himself in the sagging armchair Mr. Weasley normally occupied, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione to squeeze side-by-side onto the sofa. Rebecca remained standing beside the sofa, leaning slightly onto the arm of it.

"I have some questions for the four of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually. If you three" –He pointed at Harry, Hermione, and Rebecca— "can wait upstairs, I will start with Ronald."

"No," said Rebecca evenly.

"We're not going anywhere," said Harry, while Hermione nodded vigorously. "You can speak to us together or not at all."

Scrimgeour gave Harry a cold, appraising look.

"Very well then, together," Scrimgeour said, shrugging. He cleared his throat. "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will."

Rebecca felt as though her heart stopped for just a moment as she remembered the conversation she and Albus had on her birthday. What would he be giving her? What would its purpose be?

The three Gryffindors looked to each other.

"A surprise, apparently!" said Scrimgeour. "You three were not aware that Dumbledore had left you anything?" He looked to Rebecca. "But you knew, Miss Felan."

It was a statement of fact. Rebecca gave him a neutral look.

"No, sir," she said. "We were never so close as for me to think he would leave me anything."

"But you did not seem shocked."

"Dumbledore could rarely shock me," Rebecca said with a shrug. "He was eccentric."

"Dumbledore left all of us something?" asked Ron. "Me and Hermione too?"

"Yes, all of—"

But Harry interrupted.

"Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, before Scrimgeour could answer. "They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!" she said, and her voice trembled slightly.

"I had every right," said Scrimgeour dismissively. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will—"

"That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts," said Hermione, "and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour.

"No, I'm not," retorted Hermione. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"

Ron laughed. Scrimgeour's eyes flickered toward him and away again as Harry spoke.

"So why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can't think of a pretext to keep them?"

"No, it'll be because the thirty-one days are up," said Hermione. "They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous. Right?"

"Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?" asked Scrimgeour, ignoring Hermione. Ron looked startled.

"Me? Not—not really… It was always Harry who…"

Scrimgeour swooped like a bird of prey upon Ron's answer.

"If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions—his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects—were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?"

"I… dunno," said Ron. "I… when I say we weren't close… I mean, I think he liked me…."

"You're being modest, Ron," said Hermione. "Dumbledore was very fond of you."

There was a moment of awkward silence which Rebecca broke.

"Ron, Harry and I were given an award in our second year," she said. "For services to the school, after the Chamber of Secrets had been open. Since then, Dumbledore must have taken an interest in me and Ron, especially since we're friends with Harry. That would explain why we're in his Will."

The Gryffindors looked to her, and Hermione gave her a quick smile. Scrimgeour didn't seem to be paying them any attention. He put his hand inside his cloak and drew out a drawstring pouch much larger than the one Hagrid had given to Harry earlier in the night. From it, he removed a scroll of parchment which he unrolled and read aloud.

"'_The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_'…. Yes, here we are…. '_To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it_.'"

Scrimgeour took from the bag an object Rebecca hadn't seen before: it looked something like a silver cigarette lighter. Scrimgeour leaned forward and passed the Deluminator to Ron, who took it and turned it over in his fingers, looking stunned.

"That is a valuable object," said Scrimgeour, watching Ron. "It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare?"

Ron shook his head, looking bewildered.

"Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students," Scrimgeour persevered. "Yet the only ones he remembered in his will are you four. Why is that? To what use did he think you would put his Deluminator, Mr. Weasley?"

"Put out lights, I s'pose," mumbled Ron. "What else could I do with it?"

Evidently Scrimgeour had no suggestions. After squinting at Ron for a moment or two, he turned back to Dumbledore's will.

"'_To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive_.'"

Scrimgeour now pulled out of the bag a small book that looked as ancient as the copy of _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ upstairs. Its binding was stained and peeling in places. Hermione took it from the Minister without a word. She held the book in her lap and gazed at it. Rebecca saw the title was in runes, which most students wouldn't know how to read, but she knew Hermione could. As she looked at it, she saw a tear splash onto the embossed symbol.

"Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour.

"He… he knew I liked books," said Hermione in a thick voice, mopping her eyes with her sleeve.

"But why that particular book?"

"I don't know. He must've thought I'd enjoy it."

"Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?"

"No, I didn't," said Hermione, still wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "And if the Ministry hasn't found any hidden codes in this book in thirty-one days, I doubt that I will."

She suppressed a sob. They were wedged together so tightly that Ron had difficulty extracting his arm to put it around Hermione's shoulders. Scrimgeour turned back to the will.

"Now for an interesting section," he said, looking to Rebecca. "'_To Miss Rebecca Michelle Felan, I leave my dagger, in the understanding that she will use it well_.'"

Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw Harry grow rigid, though he attempted to hide it. Rebecca kept her face impassive as Scrimgeour pulled what she knew was Dumbledore's dagger from the bag. Its hilt was long, but not nearly as long as the blade, all of which was silver in color. However, the blade was stained with blood. Rebecca felt her hand begin to shake as she reached to accept her gift. She stared at the blood, holding it gingerly in one hand, afraid to touch the blade.

"We could find no way to remove the blood from the blade of that dagger," said Scrimgeour. "It's almost as if Dumbledore charmed it so his blood would remain upon it forever."

He paused, seeing Rebecca's shocked expression.

"Do you know why he would give this to you, Miss Felan? You claim not to have been close to him, but time and again I see evidence against it."

"Perhaps he thought I could use it to protect myself while I'm at school this year," Rebecca said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Or perhaps he told you a way to remove his blood from that dagger so you could use it in a potion," Scrimgeour said, his eyes narrowing. "You are adept with potions, are you not, Miss Felan?"

"Yes, sir," said Rebecca, still looking at the dagger in her hands. She touched the blade gingerly, but nothing happened. "I certainly can't think of anything that would remove blood that doesn't willingly want to be removed from a surface. The type of potions you are suggesting, sir, are also Dark Magic. They do not teach us such things at school." Finally, she looked up at him.

"What is more, Miss Felan," said Scrimgeour, seeming unperturbed, "is that Dumbledore left all of his magical objects to the school. However, one was missing. Would you know anything of this?"

"I don't see why I would."

Scrimgeour glared at her. "Madam Pince took inventory of it, and Minerva McGonagall confirmed a missing part of the set of silver instruments Dumbledore invented himself. It was known as the Architect."

"I don't know anything about Dumbledore's creations," said Rebecca. "Much less why he would give one to me. Perhaps it was lost at some point, or he presented it to someone else before his death."

Scrimgeour looked at her for a long time. Rebecca was nearly tempted to peek into his head, but stopped herself. Finally, he looked back to the will.

"'_To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill_."

As Scrimgeour pulled out the tiny, walnut-sized golden ball, its silver wings fluttered rather feebly.

"Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?" asked Scrimgeour.

"No idea," said Harry. "For the reasons you just read out, I suppose… to remind me what you can get if you… persevere and whatever it was."

"You think this a mere symbolic keepsake, then?"

"I suppose so," said Harry. "What else could it be?"

"I'm asking the questions," said Scrimgeour, shifting his chair a little closer to the soda. Dusk was really falling outside now; the marquee beyond the windows towered ghostly white over the hedge.

"I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch," Scrimgeour said to Harry. "Why is that?"

Hermione laughed derisively.

"Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact Harry's a great Seeker, that's way too obvious," she said. "There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!"

Rebecca smirked.

"I don't think there's anything hidden in the icing," said Scrimgeour seriously, "but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I'm sure?"

Harry shrugged.

"Snitches have flesh memories," Rebecca said quietly, looking up from the dagger for only the second time since receiving it. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"What?" said Ron and Harry.

"Correct," said Scrimgeour. "A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human to lay hands upon it, in case of a disputed capture. This Snitch" –he held up the tiny golden ball— "will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skills, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this Snitch so it will open only for you."

There was a very long silence as everyone looked to Harry, who was quietly staring at the Snitch.

"You don't say anything," said Scrimgeour. "Perhaps you already know what the Snitch contains?"

"No," said Harry.

"Take it," said Scrimgeour quietly.

Harry held out his hand. The Minister placed the Snitch into his outstretched hand slowly and deliberately. Rebecca took in a breath.

Nothing happened. As Harry's fingers closed around the Snitch, its tired wings fluttered and were still. Scrimgeour, Ron, Hermione and Rebecca continued to gaze avidly at the now partially concealed ball, as if still hoping it might transform in some way.

"That was dramatic," said Harry coolly. Ron, Hermione, and Rebecca laughed.

"That's all, then, is it?" asked Hermione, making to lift herself off the sofa.

"Not quite," said Scrimgeour, who looked bad-tempered now. "Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter."

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor."

Everyone stiffened. Scrimgeour made no move to give him the sword.

"So where is it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Unfortunately," said Scrimgeour, "that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artifact, and as such, belongs—"

"It belongs to Harry!" said Hermione hotly. "It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat—"

"According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor," said Scrimgeour. "That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided." Scrimgeour scratched his badly shaven cheek, scrutinizing Harry. "Why do you think—?"

"—Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?" said Harry, struggling to keep his temper. "Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall."

"This is not a joke, Potter!" growled Scrimgeour. "Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you the sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Interesting theory," said Harry. "Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So is this what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch? People are dying—I was nearly one of them—Voldemort chased me across three counties, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there's been no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!"

"You go too far!" shouted Scrimgeour, standing up; Harry jumped to his feet too. Rebecca stood beside Harry, who she was closest to on the sofa. Ron and Hermione looked bewildered.

Scrimgeour limped toward Harry and jabbed him hard in the chest with the point of his wand. It singed a hole into Harry's t-shirt like a lit cigarette.

Immediately, Rebecca held out her dagger toward the Minister.

"Oi!" shouted Ron, jumping up and raising his own wand.

The Minister took a step back as the dagger rose toward his neck

"No!" said Harry. "D'you want to give him an excuse to arrest us?"

"He wouldn't dare," growled Rebecca.

"Remembered you're not at school, have you?" said Scrimgeour, trying to step closer to Harry. Rebecca took a step forward, dagger still out, holding him back. "Remembered that I'm not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!"

"It's time you earned it," said Harry.

The floor trembled; there was a sound of running footsteps, then the door to the sitting room burst open and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ran in.

"We—we thought we heard—" began Mr. Weasley, looking thoroughly alarmed at the sight before him.

"—raised voices," panted Mrs. Weasley.

Scrimgeour took a couple of steps back from Harry, glancing at the hole he had made in Harry's t-shirt. He seemed to regret his loss of temper.

"It—it was nothing," he growled. "I… regret your attitude," he said, looking Harry full in the face once more. "You seem to think that the Ministry does not desire what you—what Dumbledore—desired. We ought to be working together."

"I don't like your methods, Minister," said Harry. "Remember?"

Rebecca lowered the dagger, but kept it at the ready.

For the second time, Harry raised his right fist and displayed the scars that still showed white on the back of it, spelling _I must not tell lies_. Scrimgeour's expression hardened. He turned away without another word and limped from the room. Mrs. Weasley hurried after him; Rebecca heard her stop at the back door. After a minute or so she called, "He's gone!"

"What did he want?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking around at them as Mrs. Weasley came hurrying back to them.

"To give us what Dumbledore left us," said Harry. "They've only just released the contents of his will."

The objects were passed around the dinner table to be examined by everyone. After dinner, the four friends went up to Ron's attic room to discuss what they'd received. Harry managed to get the message Dumbledore had left on the Snitch by placing it inside his mouth, as that had been how he had originally caught the Snitch. It read: _I open at the close_. After pondering that for a while, Harry told Rebecca what she had thought about the dagger.

"That's Dumbledore's blood on the blade," he said. "He used it to cut open his hand in order for us to get into the cave that night."

Rebecca nodded.

"What d'you think he wanted you to use it for?" asked Ron.

"Honestly?" Rebecca said, still staring at it. "To gain favor with Voldemort."

Ron shivered.

"But how would that do it?" Hermione asked.

"I could lie, say I took it from his body the night Snape killed him," Rebecca said. "Scrimgeour isn't going to tell the whole bloody world about that will, it leaves too many questions. It'll be locked up, might even be destroyed. Voldemort wouldn't want to look at it, anyway; he wouldn't consider it important. I can tell him I wanted to use Dumbledore's blood for the potions Scrimgeour was talking about before."

Harry furrowed his brows. "But you won't be able to."

"I think the enchantment Dumbledore left on here will lift once Snape touches it," Rebecca said quietly. "He trusted Snape right until the end, Harry. Trusted Snape more than he trusted me, or the enchantment would've lifted when I touched it, which it thankfully didn't. And if that's not true, I'll find a way to undo the enchantment. Maybe there's something else to it."

Something creaked downstairs.

"Probably just Charlie, now Mum's asleep, sneaking off to regrow his hair," said Ron nervously.

"All the same, we should get to bed," whispered Hermione. "It wouldn't do to oversleep tomorrow."

"No," agreed Ron. "A brutal quadruple murder by the bridegroom's mother might put a bit of a damper on the wedding. I'll get the lights."

And he clicked the Deluminator once more as Hermione and Rebecca left the room.

_Bill and Fleur's Wedding, August 1, 1997_

Rebecca was nervous from the moment she woke up the next morning. She and Hermione spent a little while getting ready for the wedding, helping one another with final touches to the others' dress, makeup and hair. Hermione was nervous too, she could tell, since she and the boys would be departing at some point after the wedding.

"You'll be fine," Rebecca told her as she changed the shade of Hermione's dress again. "Honestly, I think the lilac is a better color."

Hermione sighed. "I know," she said in response to Rebecca's first comment. "And I'll wear the lilac if you'll let me change your dress to the light green color. It's summery and brings out your hair."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Hermione turned and flourished her wand. "We'll need to change your eye shadow, then."

"Just do what you have to," Rebecca said impatiently. "We don't want to be late. Besides, I told Remus I'd help him with security at the reception. You don't have to look pretty for that."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the other girl's tone.

After having the misfortune of meeting Ron's Auntie Muriel and being insulted by her, the girls were seated with Ron, Harry, Fred and George and the wedding procession was about to begin. Hermione still looked pink form Viktor Krum's entrance earlier. Ron wasn't all too happy about Hermione being flustered still by the Quidditch star's presence. Harry didn't look like Harry at all, but a "cousin" to the Weasleys named Barney.

The wedding went off without a hitch. The magic entwined into the event was beautiful, but Rebecca felt uncertain the entire time. At least she had her bag with her, with all her belongings packed into it. She shrunk it so it would fit into her dress—her cleavage, to be more precise. Once the ceremony was over, Rebecca stood and gave each of her friends a lingering hug, saying she was going to make her rounds with Remus and other Order members who had agreed to be security of sorts for the afternoon.

They walked slowly around the tent, the minutes passing quickly. Rebecca scanned the skies for anything. After perhaps an hour, Rebecca spotted a light similar to the one she'd seen the night before. It was a Patronus. Everything stopped when it landed in the center of the tent.

It was a lynx, Kingsley's Patronus. Its mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep slow voice of its owner.

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming_."

Rebecca felt her blood run cold at the voice. The Patronus disappeared. Remus, who was standing next to her, touched her shoulder to get her attention.

"Go find Harry," he said quickly.

She rushed off to do just that, her wand out. Everyone was sprinting in every direction, shouting. Many people were Disapparating on the spot, others choosing to stay and fight. There was panic everywhere.

Cloaked and masked figures suddenly appeared, sending different colored spells in every direction. More chaos from the crowd erupted, but Rebecca pushed her way through, intent on finding her friends.

Somehow, Rebecca found Harry and Hermione, the latter calling out frantically for Ron. Rebecca took Harry's hand, who had Hermione's, and led them through the crowd, searching for the other redhead.

"Now's a good time to leave," she said to Harry over the tumult.

"Come with us!" he said, tugging her so she would face them.

"I can't," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

And then Ron was there. Rebecca grabbed him and shoved him toward Harry and Hermione.

"Go!" she shouted at them, waving her arms at them.

They all gave her one last look before Hermione turned on the spot just as a Death Eater approached them. Rebecca turned to face whoever it was when the Death Eater removed his mask. Severus Snape.

He reached for her, but there was someone behind her. Remus' spell nearly hit Severus, but the wizard blocked it deftly.

Severus sneered at Lupin. Always getting in the way. He didn't wish to hurt the other man, but he was quite a duelist. Rebecca stood by, looking unsure of what to do amongst the confused crowd. Finally, he saw the resolve cross her face.

She grabbed Remus by the shoulders and threw her weight against him, knocking him from his duel with Severus and placed a Shield Charm up just as the Death Eater was about to cast a Stunning Charm. It hit the Shield, which ricocheted to hit the canopy above them.

"Rebecca, stop!" she heard Remus shout.

Severus disarmed her quickly, which Rebecca allowed him to do. He caught her wand and reached for her a second time, succeeding in grabbing her about the waist. He pulled her to him.

Rebecca saw other Order members looking her way. They saw her struggling half-heartedly. Remus stood, pointing his wand at Snape.

"Let her go," he said, his wand shaking from his anger.

"She is mine, werewolf," Severus growled.

"It's okay, Remus," Rebecca said, her voice quivering.

"Quiet, girl," Severus said, shaking her slightly. Rebecca fell silent. "Go ahead, Lupin, try not to hit her."

Remus lowered his wand. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley approached the scene quickly.

"Severus, please," Molly said, holding out her unsteady hand toward Rebecca.

He pointed his wand at her. Arthur stepped forward. "Severus, be reasonable. You were once our friend. Don't drag Rebecca into this."

Severus glared at him. "It is too late for that."

He turned on the spot, Apparating them from the tent. Rebecca heard the anguished cry of Mrs. Weasley and the cursing from the two men as she and Severus disappeared from sight.

They landed somewhere Rebecca didn't recognize. Her head was still spinning from the craziness they had just left. She looked up once she'd caught her breath. He was looking down at her curiously.

"At least you'll be presentable to the Dark Lord," he muttered, taking her by the wrist and walking forward, nearly dragging her along behind him.

She followed as quickly as she could on the cobbled street. It looked like a poorer area of town. Soon, they were in front of an old-looking house. With a flick of his wand, Severus opened the door and thrust her inside. He walked in after her and shut the door, putting up the wards again before turning to face her.

His eyes traveled over her face and body quickly, appraising her. "At least you're unhurt," he said. He was shoving down the emotions he had at seeing her unharmed, even after everything she had been through. She still wore the locket too, but it was transfigured so it would not be so obviously his.

"I think you owe me some answers," she told him, her breathing still a bit heavy.

"We have a half-hour to spare," he said. "Sit." He pointed to the sofa just inside the room they were currently standing in.

Unsurprisingly, the room was sparsely furnished. There was just a sofa, a chair, and a coffee table. There was one bookshelf, but it held nothing that seemed to strike her as his personality. Once she was seated, she gave him a questioning look.

"Where are we?"

"Spinner's End," he answered curtly. "My family home." He sneered.

"May I have my wand back?"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't think so," she said with a shrug. "Tell me what you did, in detail, earlier this summer."

"I wasn't certain how well being on the run with Potter and the others would work in your favor," Severus began, pacing the room slowly as he spoke, "so I decided to implement my own plans. I went to see your mother about a week after your return from school. I made certain you were all gone from the house except for her. Then I asked her about your heritage. She recognized me, apparently from your descriptions, and was willing to divulge everything to me. She told me about your grandmother, how she had always seen her performing magic. She disappeared when your grandfather died and no one has seen her since. Her name was Isla Hitchens. From what your mother said, 'Isla' was a family name of the Hitchens' from your grandmother's grandmother, who I can only imagine to be the Isla Black who married Bob Hitchens the muggle."

"But my grandmother, Isla Hitchens, married another muggle, Theodore Gunther," Rebecca said. "Lily Evans' mother's twin?" She was having a hard time keeping track of the family ties.

"Precisely," Severus said. "Lily looked like her mother Dorothy, I know from experience. But Lily's uncle I never met. Your mother showed me a picture of him. The resemblance is striking. You take after his side of the family, which is why you look like Lily herself."

"So… Lily is my second-cousin," Rebecca said. "And Harry is my third-cousin."

"You're related to more magical blood than you could begin to imagine," Severus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The Blacks, the Weasleys, the Potters… I imagine it's why you're so proficient, despite the fact you were born to muggle parents and have many other muggle ancestors. The magic was biding its time since it was being repressed by the muggle blood."

"This is… amazing."

"Unfortunately you cannot breath a word of your relation to Potter to anyone after our" –he glanced at the clock— "now twenty-five minutes are up."

"How did you explain this?"

"I created a memory of Isla Hitchens seeking me out, using the memory of my conversation with your mother as its base in reality," he said. "In my memory, Isla knew that I was in the Dark Lord's favor and pleaded with me to take care of you. The Dark Lord believed the memory and asked no further questions about the muggle man she married. You have truly intrigued him and will continue to do so."

"As your….?" she asked, searching for the word.

"Pet," Severus said, balking at the term.

"Exciting," Rebecca said sarcastically. "What does this entail?"

"You'll be, in essence, my slave," Severus explained. "You've been given to me as a prize of sorts. However, the Dark Lord wants you to be more than that. He wants you to do his bidding at the school, it seems, to help convert more students to his side. He also hopes that you will bring Potter back once he's heard you've switched sides. He wants you cultured, however, so I must allow you to live with the Malfoys until the new term starts. I'm allowed visitation, but the Malfoys will allow nothing to occur between us since you are their ward."

He looked disgusted, but he was relaying important information to her so that she would know how to act. Another glance at the clock. Twenty more minutes.

"I am the new Hogwarts Headmaster," he said. "The Dark Lord wishes for you to be Head Girl and Draco Head Boy. He will test your loyalty to him. He will ask you many questions. You must keep him interested in you, for the moment you lose interest you will be of no use to him."

Rebecca nodded. "I understand," she said. "Would it be too much to wish to attempt to gain entrance into the Death Eaters?"

Severus stared at her. However could she think of something at a time like this?

"Think of what would happen if I gain enough favor to be a part of the Inner Circle," Rebecca continued.

"Chaos amongst them," Severus said quietly.

"Exactly," she said. She suddenly remembered the dagger and subtly dropped her hand into her dress to retrieve her purse.

Severus' gaze darted in another direction. What the hell was she doing?

Rebecca pulled out the purse and enlarged it, then _Accio_'d Dumbledore's dagger to her. She held it out to him.

"Where did you get that?" Severus asked quickly, walking toward her.

"Albus left it to me in his will," she said. "Scrimgeour came and gave us our items he left to us." She paused. "Albus must have enchanted it so his blood would remain fresh. I'm guessing he left it so it could be harvested once you touched it. I want to present it to Tom as a gift of my loyalty."

Severus watched her as she spoke.

"Albus told me he'd leave me something in his Will that would aid me," she continued. "This _has _to be what he meant. He never meant for me to go with the others to hunt for Horcruxes."

Severus took in a deep breath of air. "You must enchant it immediately after Albus' enchantment wears off so the blood does not degrade."

Rebecca nodded. He gave her back her wand for just a moment, then reached out and touched the blade of the dagger. The magic that pulsed about the dagger dissipated. Rebecca touched her wand to it and put another preserving enchantment back up.

"Do you think he'll use Albus' blood in potions?" she asked quietly.

"He will require it of me," Severus replied. "Perhaps of you as well, should you show him your proficiency in Potions."

Rebecca nodded. "Could he create anything truly terrible with this?"

"I do not think so," Severus said, taking her wand from her and placing it inside his robes. "We will cross that bridge when we get to it," he added, seeing they now had fifteen minutes left. "I must create a memory for the Dark Lord, to show him why I did not immediately come to him."

Rebecca bit her lower lip, putting the dagger back into her bag. The Architect she kept safely hidden in a secret pocket only she had access to within the bag itself. It was something she and Hermione had devised for their bags over the last part of their sixth year.

"I must show him I enjoy my gift," Severus said, unable to look at her.

"The best created memories lie in true ones." Rebecca repeated his words to him from their sessions at Legilimency.

Severus slowly nodded before reaching down to take her by the wrist again. "Place the bag back from where you retrieved it," he said through clenched teeth, already hating himself.

Rebecca knew exactly what he intended to do. She began shaking as she did as she was told. They retraced their steps back to the front door, where he looked to her, an unspoken apology written on his face.

He opened the door suddenly before slamming it, tugging Rebecca by her wrist so that she hit the door with her back. She cried out at the sudden pain. Within a moment, he was within centimeters of her face, and Rebecca was staring at him wide-eyed, afraid to make a sound.

His hands were going up and down her body, his eyes searching her face, when suddenly he stopped, as if he had an idea. His hand reached down the front of her dress. Rebecca struggled, yelling, but he held her still with a silent spell. Rebecca breathed heavily as he found her bag and smirked.

"Thought you could hide this from me?" he asked rhetorically, holding the bag before her eyes.

"Professor Snape—"

"Silence!" he snapped.

She shut her mouth. She trembled, feeling the panic rising up within her. She just wanted him to stop touching her like that. It reminded her too much of that night, when Greyback took her.

Just when she thought he was going to do something horrible to her, he pulled away.

"That is sufficient for now," he said. "I can create the rest of the memory from here. I'll modify yours once I'm finished. Do not bother me while I'm working—I must do this quickly."

Rebecca merely nodded as he turned to sit on the chair. He closed his eyes. She could only imagine what he was turning the memory into. After four silent minutes, only broken by her breathing, he stood and approached her.

"Look at me," he ordered.

She did.

He entered her mind and began altering her memory of the events that had just happened. Her emotions were correct: the fear, the anxiousness, the panic, so that was of no concern. He added onto it. His search of her body in the memory was more thorough, even going so far as to force his hands under her dress and cup her. He made her fight back honorably when he did this, but he easily subdued her with a spell, just as he had in reality. He kept the part where he found the bag, what he said to her, but added him fondling her breasts for good measure. He then threw her to the couch before looking up at the clock to see the time. There were pieces of the conversation they had, modified slightly. Severus went through her bag and found the dagger, and that's when she quickly explained. Severus had smirked then and taken her by the wrist, pulling her out the door.

He pulled from her mind and saw the shocked look on her face as his vision cleared.

"You do not know wandless magic," he said sternly. "It is expected that you can use nonverbal magic, but not wandless. If you are allowed to become my equal, I will teach you this skill and you will pick it up quickly. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

Severus sighed. "Hold it together, Rebecca," he urged her.

"I'm fine," she said. "I know how to act."

"You must still call me Professor Snape. Only if we are made equal can you call me Severus. When you are my pet, you will only refer to me as 'sir.' It will amuse _him_."

Rebecca nodded again.

Severus looked into her eyes for a long while before noticing it was time to leave. "The path you wish to walk will be a very difficult one, Rebecca."

"I know."

"You'll have to do things that go against your very being if you wish to be accepted as an Inner Circle member."

She looked to him. "I can do this. It will help, even in some tiny way."

Severus shook his head. "Such a Gryffindor sentiment, the willingness to sacrifice yourself for others' sake."

Rebecca kept her mouth shut and her face set neutrally as they exited his home in order to Apparate wherever it was they were going. Rebecca felt herself stop spinning, as was the sensation with Apparating, and looked up to see a large gate before them, and grand mansion behind that.

"Malfoy Manor," Severus said quickly as he approached the gates.

With a wave of his wand, they went through the gates without them even having to open. They walked up the long, gravel walkway to the entrance hall of the manor. Rebecca didn't have to act very hard to appear frightened, as she had no idea what to expect from here.

Once they were inside, a house elf showed them the way to the dining hall of the house, where the Malfoys, including Draco, the Lestranges, and all the other members of the Inner Circle sat about the giant table, staring as they entered. Tom sat at the head of the table, and he stood as soon as they entered.

"You know I do not appreciate tardiness, Severus," Voldemort chided.

"My apologies, my Lord," Severus said. "I was merely beginning to break in my new pet."

His grip on her wrist tightened, and Rebecca took in a sharp breath through her teeth, making a hissing noise. She noticed Nagini curled up beside Voldemort's feet. The giant snake glanced unblinkingly ahead before turning its giant head toward her, as if to observe her.

Voldemort grinned, an eerie expression. He looked to her. "We meet again, Rebecca Felan."

Rebecca said nothing.

"Still defiant as ever," Voldemort said, taking a step toward them.

"Not so much defiant as uncertain what to say," Rebecca said quietly, casting her eyes downward in a show of submission.

Voldemort gave Severus a look. "Have you broken her already, Severus?"

"No, my Lord," Severus answered. "She willingly came to me when I showed myself at the Weasley wedding."

Another smile. "Perhaps you were right about her, Severus. Come here, child."

Severus loosened his vice grip on Rebecca's wrist so she could step forward. She raised her eyes to meet Tom's, her Occlumency in place. She knew what he would want to see, and he entered her mind roughly to search for it. She showed him the days after being brought to the Burrow, when she would think on everything that had occurred at the ending of the term, on Dumbledore's death. She showed her interaction with her friends, and how they still trusted her fully. She showed him how Snape had manhandled her inside his home, the altered memory Severus had given her. Finally, she showed him how she put on a show fighting Snape to get Lupin away so that she could be taken.

Voldemort pulled from her mind and Rebecca took a step back. Her head throbbed with the effort at keeping her memories secret, as well as because of his particular style of Legilimency. It was unkind and powerful.

"You have something for me," Voldemort said. "I saw it."

Rebecca nodded. "P-Professor Snape has it," she said, glancing at her mentor with confusion and a bit of fear in her look.

"Severus," Voldemort said, holding out his hand.

Severus stepped forward, handing over the bag to his Lord.

"I assume you already took her wand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort handed the bag to Rebecca, who took it gratefully before rifling through it. Luckily, the dagger was still on the top. She pulled it from her bag. A few Death Eaters gasped, and then the room went completely silent as she handed the dagger to Voldemort, who brushed past her hand as he took it from her. Rebecca knew not to repress the shiver. He liked people being afraid of him.

Voldemort carefully looked over the dagger, knowing full well what it was, having seen it before and heard her short explanation to Severus in her memory. He finally met the girl's eyes.

"How did you get this?"

"I took it from Dumbledore's robes after he fell from the Astronomy Tower that night," Rebecca said, lying effectively. "Dumbledore wasn't infallible like he thought he was; he gave up and allowed himself to be killed. You can't follow someone who's as dead as their ideals."

"So well spoken for one so young," Voldemort said with a nod in her direction. "Obviously, no one saw you take this dagger?"

"No one saw me," Rebecca replied. "When I saw it had his blood on it, I enchanted the dagger so it would remain fresh. After I had seen Professor Snape kill Dumbledore, I knew what side I needed to be on. Dumbledore trusted too readily, and it was his downfall. It will be the Order's downfall, too." She paused, knowing Tom would understand what she was implying. "I hoped to encounter you so as to present the dagger to you as a token of my loyalty, my Lord."

She chose that moment to bow as low as she could without falling over. Voldemort considered her.

"You have fooled the entire wizarding world effectively, Rebecca," he said, tucking the dagger into his robes. "The speech you made at his funeral and that song… quite delightful acting. And your friends? How do they feel about you?"

"They trust me, but kept things from me as per Dumbledore's orders, I'm sure," she said. "But I knew they were not planning on going back to school for their final year. Perhaps they suspected you would take over the Ministry, as I knew you would, my Lord. That is why they chose to run. I almost went with them, but I felt I was needed more so by my Lord."

Voldemort grinned. "She will make a good pet, Severus," he said, stroking Rebecca's hair for a second before pulling away from her.

Rebecca managed a glance at the large table and saw Bellatrix glaring at her, her arms crossed. She was glad looks couldn't kill.

"There is an open seat near your family," Voldemort continued, motioning to the seat beside Draco. "Join them."

Rebecca did as she was told with another bow to him. It was uncomfortable at first, next to Draco, but a side-long glance from him suddenly told her she had nothing to worry from him. He was as frightened as she was, and less apt at hiding it.

"Severus, be certain to keep order while I am away," Voldemort said, turning back to his most trusted Death Eater. "And remember my parameters for your pet."

"Yes, my Lord, thank you," Severus said, bowing his head.

Voldemort then Disapparated from the company.

_At the Malfoys', August-September, 1997_

Rebecca quickly discovered the Malfoys themselves were actually not all that bad. That first night she was there, she and Draco had run into each other in the hallway, both on their way to the kitchen to get something to drink. At least that's what he told her. Rebecca, as usual, couldn't sleep, and was going to wander about the house until she had memorized it. It would make her more comfortable.

They talked a bit that night in the kitchen, a house elf bringing them some warm milk. Draco smirked at their childishness, but the tense code he began was anything but childish. Covertly, he admitted his lack of desire for a Dark Mark. Just as subtly, Rebecca agreed. They expressed their desire for themselves and their family to survive.

After looking at her for a long moment, Draco took his wand from his pocket and made the kitchen safe for them to speak.

"Severus won't hurt you," he said.

"And what makes you think that?"

"I don't think he wanted to kill Dumbledore."

Rebecca looked at him oddly.

"Look, I know there are things you can't tell me, and it's better that we don't talk like this at all ever again," he said quickly. "But know that my family and I are on your side, especially since it's been discovered you're related to us. All we care about is family and getting out of this alive."

Rebecca nodded. "I understand. I'm a bit similar."

"I know how you are, Felan."

"Rebecca." She gave him an even look.

"Rebecca," he replied, nodding.

"Draco, just understand that I'll be doing things that seem out of character for me, seeing as we've shared a common room the past six years."

"I get it," he said. "Stop talking."

"I'm glad we didn't have this chat," Rebecca said with a smirk as he removed the charms protecting them.

Lucius and Narcissa, as they had insisted to Rebecca to call them, were much more relaxed around her after that. She was not someone who would turn them in or spy upon them. Narcissa began teaching her the proper etiquette every young witch would know by her age. All of them taught her to dance; Narcissa and Lucius would demonstrate and Draco would lead her patiently until she got the hang of it. She learned a number of dances by the time she went back to Hogwarts.

Lucius also re-taught her much of the pureblood history that she had learned during the summer before fifth year. He seemed to catch on to her boredom and sought things that were more obscure in order to fulfill her desire to learn.

"The Dark Lord will be impressed by how much we've taught you," Lucius said, smiling approvingly.

Draco even began teaching her how to play the piano.

"My parents began teaching me at a young age, as every witch or wizard should have some sort of skill in a musical instrument," he said as his fingers moved seamlessly over the keys. A beautiful soft wafted through the sitting room. "Maybe if you learn enough by Christmas, we can perform together at the ball my parents throw every year."

And Rebecca set herself to learning the piano, with Draco guiding her. Narcissa would occasionally sit in to hear her progress. Rebecca could not easily pick up the instrument, but Narcissa did comment that if she could it would complement her singing voice well.

"I heard you over the radio, dear," she said by way of explanation. "There isn't much that we don't know about you, so it's time to stop acting so surprised."

On the third day she had been at the Malfoys', Rebecca was walking around the garden by herself. She considered it exercise and they all left her to her own devices. She heard a tiny "pop" and looked up to see Dobby smiling at her.

"Miss Rebecca!" he said, jumping up and down. "Harry Potter has sent Dobby to speak with Miss Rebecca!"

"Dobby, voice down!" Rebecca hissed.

"Sorry, Miss Rebecca," Dobby said, ears drooping a bit as he lowered his voice. "Harry Potter asked Dobby to find Miss Rebecca to ask Miss Rebecca's advice on a matter."

"What is it?"

"Harry Potter wrote it down," Dobby said, poking his hand into one of his socks and pulling out a rolled-up parchment.

Rebecca took it from him. "Thank you, Dobby. Follow me, please."

Dobby did as she asked, following her around the corner where there was a stone seat for her to sit on and read.

_Becca,_

_First off, sorry to hear you're stuck with the Malfoys. We read about it in a __Prophet_ _we managed to get. Hope they're treating you well._

_Secondly, we need your help. Umbridge has Slytherin's locket, which is a Horcrux. We need to break into the Ministry. We've begun monitoring it and think we have a plan, involving Polyjuice Potion, of course. We've also found some likely candidates: Albert Runcorn, Reginald Cattermole, and Mafalda Hopkirk. Any information on them would be great. Anything else to add, whether it's about security at the Ministry or whatever, is also welcome._

_Lastly, I want you to come with us. Dobby can take you to us. Please, Becca, we all miss you and we're worried about you. _

_Love, _

_Harry, Ron, and Hermione_

Each friend had signed his or her name at the bottom, as if in approval. Rebecca looked to Dobby, who was holding out another piece of parchment and a quill he'd seemingly gotten from nowhere.

"Dobby will warn Miss Rebecca if Dobby's former masters approach," the house elf said, smiling.

"Thank you, Dobby, and please call me Rebecca," she said.

The elf looked like he would die of joy.

Rebecca wrote a quick note back to Harry.

_Harry, Ron, and Hermione,_

_I'll find the information you're looking for as quickly as I can, but watch your targets closely and carefully. I have full faith that you'll be able to infiltrate without my help if necessary. Don't tell me where you are as it won't end well for any of us. Like I told you before, I can't come with you. I'm needed here. I'm to be Head Girl when the term starts, to help Tom cause more chaos and to attempt to draw you lot out of your hiding. Don't come for me, no matter what you hear. I'll be fine. And as for your first concern, Harry, there's nothing to be worried about. The Malfoys themselves are kind and only concerned for themselves and now me, since I'm a part of their family. This will pay off for the both of us in the end, I feel._

_Sorry, my letter must be short. Send Dobby at night next time, to my room, so I can write more._

_Love,_

_Rebecca_

"Dobby, quickly!" Rebecca said, handing over the parchment and quill to the house elf. "Give this back to Harry. I have to get back to the house."

"Thank you M—Rebecca!" Dobby said, taking the items from her and bouncing again. "Harry Potter will be very pleased to hear from you."

"Go, Dobby, before you're seen!" Rebecca said, grinning at the house elf.

With a snap of his fingers, Dobby was gone. Over the next few weeks, Dobby paid visits to her room at night every third day. She got some information on the Ministry workers Harry and the others had requested, but it wasn't much: just what she surmised from conversations with Lucius and other Ministry workers who stopped by. At least she was a careful listener.

Severus was a frequent visitor, with the Malfoys all as supervisors. Occasionally, they would leave the two alone for a few minutes, as if testing them both. But Severus made no moves toward her while they were there nor while they were gone. He seemed content to sit on the same couch with her, or even across the room from her. She told him what she was learning, but was unsure how she was supposed to act around him. She called him "sir," as he had told her. He even gave her a task: by the end of the summer, she would play a song for him on piano. He even left the song up to her discretion. Lucius and Narcissa thought it was a wonderful idea. At least it gave Rebecca something to focus on.

Another frequent visitor was Bellatrix Lestrange, but her attention was for Draco. She was teaching her nephew Occlumency in secret, Rebecca learned fairly easily by listening at the door. It was to protect him, to help him survive. It struck Rebecca as odd that the woman had a heart. However, she also heard Bellatrix urging Draco to outshine the Mudblood, which sounded more like her.

"She is related to us, Aunt Bellatrix," Draco said. "And she's not nearly as bad as most muggle-raised witches and wizards. Perhaps you should give her a chance."

"She is Snape's whore, Draco, you cannot forget that," Bellatrix said to him quietly. "Anything regarding Snape cannot be trusted."

"He's my godfather," Draco said incredulously. "Father wouldn't have chosen someone for that role he didn't trust."

"There is something off about Snape," Bellatrix continued, as if she had not heard her nephew. "Be wary of him and his Mudblood pet."

Charming, Rebecca thought as she slipped away silently.

Then Draco and Rebecca got owls for their list of school supplies. Inside both of their letters came Head Boy and Girl badges. Narcissa cooed over both of them, declaring they were both getting the newest and best robes. A trip to Diagon Alley was taken. All of the Malfoys, Rebecca, and Severus were seen together. Severus stayed close to her, glaring at any who dared too near her, whether it was meant as friendly or not. At one point, he forced her under his grasp when the Malfoys looked away. He held her against his body, nose in her hair.

"For show," he whispered in her ear before pulling away.

Rebecca had gone stiff, just as she usually did when someone touched her unexpectedly. She walked warily beside him for the rest of the trip.

Narcissa was also insisting on paying for everything for Rebecca.

"You're family now, dear," she told the girl, "do not fret. And we must get you some new clothes. Not to say the ones you have are bad, dear, just…"

"Not up to standards?" Rebecca offered with a helpful look.

"Exactly," Narcissa said with a smile. "Severus, would you like to help us pick out Rebecca's new clothes?"

"Gladly," the man replied, smirking.

They made it back to Malfoy Manor, several packages heavier. The next day would see her and Draco off to Hogwarts. Rebecca felt the pit in her stomach growing bigger and bigger. Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be breaking into the Ministry on the second, and she would need to act surprised at the news.

Tom had not paid the Malfoys a visit in the month that she'd been here. Rebecca supposed he was off on some business and did not press the matter. Though she was a Black by blood, she was still only a pet, and acting curious this early in the game with Bellatrix watching closely would not do well for her.

The last day at Malfoy Manor, Severus came to have dinner and listen to Rebecca perform her song, as he had requested. Dinner was a lovely, but short affair, before everyone retired to the sitting room, where the piano was. Lucius, Severus, and even Draco were given after dinner drinks as Narcissa held gingerly onto her wine glass. All eyes were upon her. She even saw some of the house elves, who she treated rather kindly, peer around the furniture farther back in the room or from adjacent rooms.

She was wearing a new dress Narcissa had bought for her, just a simple black one. Malfoy jewelry had been added to enhance her overall appearance. The red of the jewels and the black of the dress against her pale skin coupled with her vibrant hair pulled into a bun made her look stunning, Narcissa had told her. Rebecca had merely shrugged at her appearance in the mirror, unimpressed by the clothes that she felt did not suit her.

But now she gave a slight bow to those watching her, as she'd been instructed to do, before looking back up.

"I'm going to play the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata," she said simply.

Rebecca met Severus' gaze very briefly; he gave her an approving look. She turned and took her seat on the bench before the keys of the piano. Her hands were poised over the keys, and she took a breath in, remembering how long it had taken her just to learn how to properly hold her hands for piano playing. She let out her breath slowly and began.

The music filled the room as her fingers lightly played over the keys. She chose this song because she'd heard it played a number of times as a child, and she felt like it spoke the true feelings of her heart at the moment. She'd practiced it whenever she had a spare moment, if only to prove to herself that she could learn something by sheer repetition.

Without realizing, she was putting her entire body into the playing of the piece. Lucius watched her, unmoving, feeling the weight of the song's meaning settle onto his shoulders. Narcissa was smiling softly; her hands soon covered her mouth. Draco looked on, impressed by the movement of her fingers. Even though she messed up a time or two, it was hard to notice by how much she was into the performance of the music.

Severus marveled at her playing. He'd only given her the task a month ago, and she was playing the song almost flawlessly. She put all of her being into this, and it was entrancing. It was as though there was magic being performed before him without the service of a wand. And then he wondered if there was a way to use Rebecca's growing skills to her advantage when the Dark Lord returned. They would see.

Rebecca's song ended, and the Malfoys and Severus applauded for her. She gave a polite smile, but had to stop herself from grinning as she saw the house elves clapping for her too before disappearing.

As everyone was saying goodnight, the Malfoys left Severus alone with Rebecca. It was not as a challenge, as Rebecca had thought earlier in the summer. It was to give them time to plan without being overheard.

"You played well," he said.

"Thank you. You had a thoughtful expression when I was done."

"Wondering how your various skills can be advantageous to you," he said. "Hopefully, on the weekends, you may be permitted to practice at Malfoy Manor."

"How would that help?" Rebecca asked, furrowing her brows.

"The way you play is almost as though you're performing magic," Severus said, feeling awkward at the way that it needed to be phrased. "And I mean that quite literally. Perhaps there is a way, through music, to use magic."

Rebecca paused. "It's certainly something to think about."

He nodded. "Yes, but I doubt it could be possible. That will not stop me from looking into it, however, and it will not stop your talent as a singer and a pianist from being another interesting factor in the Dark Lord's eyes."

Rebecca felt the blush come to her face. "I really don't think I'm that talented in either area."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Your exceeding humbleness might do well on Gryffindors, but on Slytherins it has little effect but to make you appear weak. Put a stop to it now or you will learn the hard way."

Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.

"I will see you tomorrow at Hogwarts," Severus said, giving her a curt nod of his head as he stepped toward the entrance. His robes billowed impressively behind him, as usual.

She watched him go before turning toward the staircase and heading for her room. She needed to at least attempt sleep, as tomorrow would be the start of the new term with new rules.


	8. Seventh year, Part 2: Early to Mid Sept

**Author's Note:** Mkay, so I know I said the next update would contain September-December... but I'm only, like, most of the way through September and the document was like 150ish pages with various scenes filled in. I had the Muse strike me tonight and finished up enough to make a nice 70-ish page chapter, so Chapter 7 will likely be in 4 or 5 parts now because it makes it much more managable for yours truly. :) Thank you for those who had such kind reviews for me. And to the reviewer who stated that Rebecca seemed a bit too perfect, I hope you see that she's quite imperfect by the end of this chapter, or at least she feels that she is. I feel that she's not overly perfect, seeing as she was coerced into being a spy without fully understanding everything that it would entail, but to each their own reading. Anyhoo, I hope everyone keeps reading and reviewing. Reviews make me happy! :D

**Edit:** I edited a few things since I realized I didn't go through this as well as I should have... like putting in breaks between the scenes. *headdesk* And the last scene had a lot of words left out. My bad. Hope it's a bit easier to read now. And thanks for the further comments. :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters except Rebecca. But I don't plan on making money off of this. There's very little in this chapter that should sound familiar. Enjoy the awkwardness. :)

* * *

**Chapter Seven, Part Two: Early to Mid-September**_  
_

_Back to Hogwarts, September 1-2, 1997_

Rebecca was escorted to Platform 9 ¾ by the Malfoys and rode with Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and a few of the other Slytherins. Many of them had never spoken more than a sentence to her at a time, but now treated her at least with a bit more deference than they had before. The only person not to do so was Pansy Parkinson, who Rebecca was sure was supposed to have been Head Girl. Pansy was clearly upset with Rebecca's new proximity to Draco and new position within Slytherin and the school itself.

The first night at the feast had proven extremely awkward. There were confused looks and glares from the Gryffindor table mostly. A few other students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff joined in. The Gryffindors in her friends' year were going to be the hardest to deal with. Seamus and Dean were shooting glances at her every so often, clearly talking about her and her friends' absences.

Severus stood to give the speech. Everyone went silent as soon as he approached the podium set up before the head table.

"I welcome you to another year at Hogwarts," he said, his voice reverberating off the walls of the castle. "As you can see, there have been some changes made. I, Severus Snape, am your new Headmaster. My Deputy Headmaster is Professor Amycus Carrow, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Joining us is his sister, Professor Alecto Carrow, teaching Muggle Studies due to the resigning of your old instructor. Professor Slughorn will remain Potions Master but take over as Head of Slytherin House."

Each professor stood when his or her name was called, but Slughorn looked very nervous as he did so. Rebecca felt him watching her. She nodded her head ever so slightly, and he appeared relieved. They all sat back down so Headmaster Snape could continue.

"You will also welcome your Head Boy and Girl, Draco Malfoy and Rebecca Felan, both of Slytherin House," Severus said, a slow smile creeping to his face. He began clapping, which the rest of the Great Hall took up slowly.

Rebecca and Draco stood, badges shining in the bright light.

"Students will do well to remember that the Head Boy and Girl may remove House Points and hand out detentions," Severus continued.

He nodded to them, and they sat back down. Rebecca could practically feel the sneers upon her back as she turned away from the Gryffindor table.

"As for new rules," Headmaster Snape continued. "The new curfew is at nine p.m. sharp. Students who are found out of their common rooms after this time will suffer severe consequences courtesy of Mr. Argus Filch." Severus nodded to the man, who stood near the back of the room, grinning like a madman. "Furthermore, all inter-House communication is strictly forbidden."

There was much muttering and a few outcries. Severus swept his gaze about the room, silencing them all.

"The only instances you are allowed communication is during class times," he continued. "Professors will stand outside their classrooms in the corridors and ensure this rule is followed. No one from any other House is permitted inside another House's common room. Those found guilty of breaking these particular rules will find their punishment comes directly from me."

The rest of the feast was a fairly quiet ordeal. All the students at the House tables spoke softly to one another, as if another one of the rules was about yelling. From what she could tell, Rebecca noticed the Slytherins didn't seem to mind the new rules. Probably because they had never been ones to get chummy with anyone outside of their House.

That night she and Draco went to the dorm they were going to be sharing. The Head Boy and Girl had their own common room of sorts that was decorated with all the House colors. To solve the problem of the garish clash of colors, the two transfigured until they were satisfied with their green and grey. Each then went into their rooms and did the same. The rooms were each about the size of a regular dorm with one queen-sized bed, a side table with a lamp, a dresser with a mirror, a desk and chair, its own bathroom, and a sofa with a coffee table. As if they would entertain anyone, Rebecca thought with a roll of her eyes.

Draco informed her of what her duties would be: similar to that of a Prefect. They would take part in rounds during the early evening hours. The schedule would be posted by the end of the week. They were to be on alert for students breaking any rules and to report them to the proper authority.

Rebecca went to bed that night feeling fairly sick with this position of power already. But she knew it would solidify her new image at the school. No one could touch her, especially once she was more than the Headmaster's "pet."

The next morning she awoke to a "pop."

"Dobby!" she said, opening her eyes to see the large brown ones of the house elf.

"Rebecca!" Dobby said by way of greeting. He took her surprise for excitement, and began bouncing again. "Harry Potter sent this message to you."

He handed her a sheet of parchment, which she read quickly.

_Becca,_

_Infiltrated the Ministry. Didn't go over well. At Grimmauld Place. Yaxley almost came with us. Managed to avoid him. Will be moving soon. Please, come with us._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Rebecca clutched the note to her chest and knew what she had to do.

"Dobby, I need you to tell Harry and the others something, but I don't have time to write it," she said as she went to her dresser. She got out her clothes for the day.

"Anything for Harry Potter!" Dobby said.

"You know of my position currently?" she asked, tossing off her night clothes.

Dobby covered his eyes with his overly large ears. "Rebecca is an Order spy," he said. "Rebecca is at Hogwarts to spy on You-Know-Who's followers. Dobby is sworn to secrecy."

"Very good," she said, pulling on her school uniform. "I need you to tell Harry and the others what I'm about to do, which might solidify my power with Tom."

"Tom?" Dobby asked, peeking out from under his ear. He saw she was appropriate, and allowed his ears to extend all the way back out. "You mean He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Yes, Dobby. And I know you can keep secrets."

"Dobby was sworn by Headmaster Dumbledore to keep all Order members' secrets!" he nearly shrieked. "Dobby won't allow Rebecca or Harry Potter to be hurt!"

"Voice down," Rebecca said in a hushed tone. She put on her tie and Head Girl badge before sitting on the bed to put on her socks. "I need you to tell them to wait until they hear people breaking into Grimmauld Place. It will be Death Eaters. Tell them I'm sorry, but I must do this. They will come to no harm if they allow themselves to be seen. They can Disapparate immediately once they're seen by whatever Death Eater comes for them. There aren't any anti-Apparation wards up still. Do you understand?"

"Dobby understands," he said, confusion clearly evident. "This will help Rebecca?"

"This will help me greatly," she said, pulling on her shoes. "You can keep sending messages between us?"

"Of course Dobby can," he said. "I always know where Harry Potter and Rebecca are. Harry Potter and Rebecca are Dobby's friends." He grinned.

Rebecca paused to look at the house elf for a moment. Her look softened. "You'll always be our friend, Dobby."

The elf looked as though he would explode. "Thank you, Rebecca! Dobby will go to Harry Potter right now!"

And with that, he was gone. Rebecca rushed down her staircase and through the common room, bypassing Draco. He called after her, but she didn't have time to answer. She raced through the corridors, finally coming upon the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle allowed her to pass, seeing how much in a hurry she was. She pounded upon the door.

"Enter," Severus called from within.

She burst through the door, holding the letter in her hand. "Sir," she said, holding it out to him. "I received an owl from Harry Potter."

He snatched it from her and scanned it quickly. As he did so, Rebecca glanced up to see Albus watching what was happening, a terrified expression on his face. She winked at him.

Suddenly, Severus was pressing his wand into his Mark. He grimaced, obviously in immense pain.

"My Lord, my pet has received a message from Harry Potter," he said into his Mark. "He is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. I will come to you to lead you to the house."

He paused a moment before looking up to meet Rebecca's eyes. "He wants me to bring you," he said with a sneer, grabbing onto her wrist before she could protest. His Mark was burning terribly.

"We have to get out of the wards," he growled, dragging her to the door of his office. He cast a Disillusion Charm upon the both of them.

She ran along beside him, her heart pounding as they made their way through the castle. No one saw them, even as they brushed past students from all the Houses as they made their way through the Entrance Hall. Soon, they were out on the grounds. Rebecca saw Hagrid lumbering up towards the castle from his hut. It was nearly breakfast.

Finally, they were outside the wards. It had probably only taken them two minutes.

"Grab onto me," Severus said through his teeth.

Rebecca clutched him around the waist, as he was raising his wand arm to his other forearm. When she was secured, he pressed the tip of his wand to his Mark again, and they Disapparated.

They were at Malfoy Manor, outside the gates. With a wave of his wand, Severus opened them, pulling her along behind him again. Inside the manor, they were met by the Dark Lord, who held out his hand for the parchment.

"Give it to me, Severus," he said, snatching it from the man.

Glancing it over, he laughed. "_Love_, he says. Take your pet to the house with Bellatrix and Dolohov. You will be allowed entrance?"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus said with a bow.

"Go, quickly!" Voldemort yelled, waving his arm. "Bring Harry Potter back to me!"

Severus' grip on Rebecca's wrist grew as Bellatrix and Dolohov met their pace back out the door. As soon as they were past the gates, they Apparated.

They were on the street just outside of Grimmauld Place.

"Stay close to me, and you will be able to see it," said Severus. "Once Dumbledore was killed, all the Order members became Secret Keepers of the house. It is Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

As he spoke the words, the house quickly came into view, pushing the other houses out of its way. The Death Eaters and Rebecca approached the house, opening the door with ease. Bellatrix pushed her way past Severus and Rebecca, her wand out. They made their way silently down the hallway to the living room. As the four of them entered, Rebecca heard a gasp. Hermione.

All the Death Eaters drew their wands, but they were not fast enough. Hermione grabbed Harry and Ron and spun on the spot, leaving nothing for the hexes to hit but the wall behind them. Bellatrix screeched, hitting a lamp on a nearby table. It shattered as soon as it hit the floor.

Mrs. Black began shrieking as a result of the noises made by Bellatrix. Dolohov went over and managed to close the curtains.

"Search the area," Severus said. "They may have left something behind indicating where they were going."

He turned to Rebecca and took her by the scruff of her robes, holding her up to him. "That was your first communication with Potter?"

"Yes, sir," Rebecca said, only her toes touching the floor.

"You have no idea where they might have gone?"

"No, sir, they never told me where they'd be going once they went into hiding."

"Don't scare the girl too much, Severus," Dolohov said with a chuckle. "She'll be less willing to forget that later, when it counts."

Severus sneered, putting Rebecca down. "Search the kitchen," he ordered, turning to go up the stairs.

Rebecca did as she was told quickly, making her way down the stairs. She found Kreacher, who seemed a bit happier, as he greeted her cordially instead of with a derisive remark.

"Greetings, friend of Master Harry," he said with a short bow.

"Hello, Kreacher," Rebecca said. "Please keep your voice down. I'd like to keep this conversation a secret."

"Of course. Kreacher does as he's told."

"What's that you've got there?"

"A gift from Master Harry. It belonged to Master Regulus."

Rebecca understood. This was the fake locket the trio had found and told her about. They had been looking for the other one; that was why they'd needed to get into the Ministry, to get the real one from Umbridge.

"Do you know where they went, Kreacher?"

"No, friend of Master Harry."

"Please hide until we are gone," Rebecca said. "I would hate for them to find you."

"Who, friend of Master Harry?"

"Death Eaters," Rebecca said quietly.

Kreacher nodded. "Master Harry's friend is with Death Eaters. She must have been kidnapped by them."

"Something like that," Rebecca answered, leading him toward his cupboard. "Now stay in here until we're gone, Kreacher, and you'll be safe."

"Thank you, friend of Master Harry."

She shut the door behind him and began looking about the kitchen. Only moments after she shut Kreacher up, Severus came down the stairs.

"Have you found anything?"

"No, sir."

"Come, then, we must return to our Lord."

Rebecca couldn't help but bite her bottom lip as she went to him. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs behind him. As she was looking up to see who it was, Severus took her up in his arms. She went stiff in his grasp, her arms pressed into her chest. She was helpless from this position. Rebecca glanced up at him nervously, but he was not angry.

"You did well to bring that note to me, pet," he said quietly, directly in her ear. "Our Lord does not forget such shows of loyalty."

"Snape, enough toying with your whore," Bellatrix growled, making a disgusted face at them. "There's nothing here. The Dark Lord will be waiting."

They returned to Malfoy Manor to find Voldemort seated at the long dining table in the Great Hall with Lucius and Narcissa, who looked extremely nervous. The Dark Lord let out a frustrated cry and rounded upon Severus.

"What happened?" he shouted. "Why have you not brought me Harry Potter?"

"My Lord, the anti-Apparation wards were no longer on the house," he said quickly. "They Apparated as soon as they saw us."

"No wards?" Voldemort cried.

"No, my Lord," Severus said.

Rebecca stood submissively behind him, waiting. She eyed the Malfoys. Narcissa gave her a comforting look while Lucius stared straight ahead.

"The wards were either put up by Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Moody, or all three," Severus continued before the Dark Lord could raise his wand at him. "I had not thought it possible until now. However, all three of them are dead. If all of them were to have added to the wards, they would become weaker once their magic was gone. No one has lived in Grimmauld Place since Black's death, and it currently is owned by Harry Potter, left by Black to his godson in his will. Potter would not put those wards back up if he had to make a quick escape."

Voldemort pointed his wand at Severus. "A very pretty explanation, Severus," he said, his voice so low it was barely audible. "You should have thought of such measures earlier."

"I apologize, my Lord," Severus said.

Rebecca saw him tremble minutely.

"I will not allow something such as this to happen again," Voldemort said. "You will receive the Cruciatus for your late thinking at a future date. You must be able to get back to Hogwarts today." He lowered his wand.

"Thank you, my Lord," Severus said, bowing his head.

"Rebecca, step forward," Voldemort said, beckoning to her.

She took a firm step toward Tom. He watched her, intrigued.

"You have no fear," he said.

"Because I know I have done nothing worthy of punishment," she answered. "I nearly delivered Harry Potter to you, my Lord."

"That is so. Did they see you?"

"They did," she said. "If they communicate with me again, not only will I be certain to let you know, my Lord, but I will convince them that…" She glanced at Severus. "I will tell them Headmaster Snape found the parchment and forced me to bring it to you, my Lord. They will think I am still their friend."

"Very good," Voldemort said with a nod of approval. "Severus, bring her to me again this Saturday."

"Yes, my Lord," said Severus, not truly understanding what the Dark Lord wished with her.

"You are both dismissed," Voldemort said with a wave of his hand. He stepped back from Rebecca, smirking. "I'm certain you'll find an excuse to give to Rebecca's first professor of the day."

Severus and Rebecca bowed their heads. They made it back to Hogwarts safely, and even inside the Headmaster's office, where Severus looked to her.

"How did you get that letter?"

"Dobby."

"You've been communicating over the summer at the Malfoys' through their old house elf," he muttered.

It wasn't a question. Rebecca nodded, though, for lack of anything else to do. Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Good work, nonetheless," he said.

"I assume you informed Dobby to tell Harry and the others to leave?" asked a familiar voice. Rebecca turned to see Albus' portrait talking to them. She smiled.

"Yes, but I had them wait until we saw them before they could Apparate."

"How did you know there were no more anti-Apparation wards on Grimmauld Place?" Severus asked.

She shrugged. "I had a guess."

Albus chuckled. "Perhaps it had been mentioned to Rebecca a few times who had put up the wards," he said nonchalantly. "And given a lecture on what happens to the magic left by a wizard after he dies."

There was a pause. Severus shook his head.

"Perhaps the Dark Lord will forget my punishment," he said quietly. He went to his desk and scribbled on a piece of parchment before handing it to Rebecca. "Your first class is N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration with Minerva. Give her this and she will not reprimand you."

Rebecca looked to the note. It read: _Minerva,_ _excuse Miss Felan for her tardiness. I was aiding in her learning of her Head Girl duties._

_Headmaster Snape_

She looked back at him and found he was watching her. Rebecca saw what he implied by doing this. It was a subtle act of claiming, a confirmation of the rumors that had already been passed around the school, due to _The Daily Prophet_'s reporting on her moving in with the Malfoys. The press had also been taken over by Voldemort along with the Ministry, so it printed articles pertaining to pureblood news. She recalled the photographers attempting to get inside the gates over the summer. That had been put to an end rather quickly, however.

She nodded and turned to leave.

"Rebecca."

She turned back to him when he called her name.

"We will need to have daily meetings," he told her. "After dinner every evening, you are to report to this office as soon as you are done. I will schedule your rounds for later in the evenings, but know you'll have very few. This will not look unusual."

She waited as he paused, wondering if she was supposed to say something.

"We will need to create more memories before your meeting with the Dark Lord this Saturday," Severus said.

She felt her skin grow clammy. "All right." It was all she could manage.

She turned and left for Transfiguration. As the door shut, Severus turned to Albus.

"You never meant for her to go with the Gryffindors," he growled at his mentor.

"I did at one point," Albus said. "However, I knew she would be of better use here."

"Still scheming even after you're dead," Severus muttered, turning away from the portrait.

"Quite the contrary, Severus, as you know portraits only do and say what the real person was doing, thinking, and saying in real life," Albus said. "I had planned this all by her birthday, which is when I gave her the Architect and essentially promised her the dagger. I assume she gave it to Tom already?"

Severus paused. "Yes," he answered quietly.

"Then I trust she is currently in his favor?"

"Yes," Severus said. "I imagine her favor will grow with the meeting this Saturday."

"Do you know what he wants from her?"

"No, Albus, but I can only assume it will be the first of many tests of her loyalty," Severus said tiredly.

"Rebecca is strong, she will be all right," Albus said reassuringly.

Severus stared at the portrait. "I wished I would have hexed you that night for bringing a child into this war," he said quietly.

There was a silence. They both knew which night Severus spoke of: the night of Rebecca's attack. Albus considered the younger man a moment before responding.

"She is no longer a child, Severus, as I'm sure you well know. I fear you also underestimate her. She has been in Tom's presence multiple times now and has come out unscathed. She will become an Inner Circle member yet. And then it will be simpler for the two of you to begin with the dissembling of the Death Eaters, making it easier for Harry to defeat Tom."

Severus turned back to his desk, no longer wishing to continue this conversation. He thoroughly ignored Albus for the rest of the day.

* * *

_Preparing for the Meeting, September 2-5, 1997_

Rebecca came back that night after dinner to find Severus sitting behind his desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment. There were many stacked fairly high upon his desk. He did not look up to greet her, so she took a seat in front of his desk to wait. From out of her robes she produced the Architect and set it on the edge of his desk.

The silver instrument's parts began spinning. Soon, puffs of smoke were emitting from it as they usually did. Now, Severus was intrigued. Even Dumbledore was watching, curious.

The smoke formed a lion, a scar across his face. Severus raised an eyebrow and slowly met her gaze.

"Who or what does that symbolize?"

"Alastor," Rebecca whispered.

For once, Severus was unsure of what to say. He set down his quill slowly and gently, watching as the girl in front of him suddenly began to admit feelings she had probably been bottling up all summer.

"I've been thinking about him ever since it happened," she said. "Not constantly, like how it was with Albus' death for a while. It's enough to distract me. I keep asking the Architect if there was anything I could've done to stop it."

"Rebecca, there was nothing you could have done," Severus said, his voice low. He was going to try and be patient with her; she was unaccustomed to death, especially when it occurred right in front of her for the second time in a summer.

"Yeah, that's what it said," she agreed. She stared at the lion with the scar across his face.

"It is interesting that Alastor appears as a lion for you," Albus said from his portrait. "He came to me as a crab."

Rebecca smirked at him. The smoke turned into an owl. "That's you," she said. "You're both there a lot, mostly together."

"I'm sure Alastor would approve," Albus said with a nod. "Much as I do. I quite like owls."

Rebecca couldn't help but chuckle. She took the Architect from the desk and placed it back into her robes.

"The point is: I'll do whatever it takes to avenge their deaths," Rebecca said. "Alastor, Albus, even Hedwig, Harry's owl."

The obsidian eyes met the emerald ones and remained there.

"I just want to make sure you understand that no matter how I react, I'll be all right," Rebecca said. "I don't need to be pitied. Just as you have your reasons to fight against Tom, I now have mine. I might not like what I'll have to do and I know it'll be anything but comfortable, but I'll still do it. I just need you to lead the way."

It was quite a speech, Severus thought. His hands were crossed on the desk in front of him. He watched her for a moment longer before choosing to respond.

"Very well, then."

He stood and turned to the previous Headmaster's portrait. "Albus."

With a nod of his head, the portrait went to work, rounding up all the other old Headmasters and scooting them from the room.

"They can be easily replaced back into memories," Severus said by way of explanation as the portraits exited the room loudly. "It is one less thing for us to be concerned with."

Rebecca nodded.

"Tonight we are going to work on a single memory to present to the Dark Lord come Saturday," Severus said once all the portraits were gone. "But first I must explain how he expects our relationship to work."

"I'm fairly certain I understand how the master-pet relationship works," Rebecca said, shifting a bit in her chair. "I'm subservient, I call you 'sir,' but I haven't lost my spirit. After all, I'm still a Slytherin, and you've promoted me to Head Girl for no other reason than to have a closer connection with me while in the school. I know that I can use this to my advantage, as well as our previous six years' worth of a teacher-student relationship. You know my talents, my strengths, and I know yours. But you know my weaknesses, too, whereas I don't know yours. This is how you'll keep me in line."

"Enough," Severus said, closing his eyes. It was staggering how much she could pick up just through listening to a few conversations between Death Eaters. It was also downright irritating at times. "Then allow us to move a step further. Perhaps you could explain to me what it is a pet is supposed to do for her master."

Rebecca's lips went thin, just as Professor McGonagall's had earlier this morning when she had presented the note to the older woman.

"Well?" he asked.

She stalled. How to put it without sounding as though the thought scared the hell out of her?

"I'm here for your pleasure, sir," Rebecca said, batting her eyelashes at him with a fake smile plastered to her face.

Severus couldn't help but smirk. "Yes. Next time, don't look so happy about it. If you're going to be as defiant a character as the Dark Lord wants you to be, you must think it is a duty that is below you and your… talents."

He said the last word with a knowing look in her direction.

"Ah."

Well, now he would definitely know how much this talk terrified her. There was a long pause as he looked at her for a moment.

"You are inexperienced," he stated simply, arms crossing over his chest.

"Your first clue?" Rebecca asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. It was becoming increasingly difficult, as she'd never imagined she would be discussing something like this with her mentor.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose again.

"You couldn't expect me to run out and… do whatever in corridors and alcoves after what Greyback did to me," Rebecca said, barely keeping the anger from her voice. "I'm a lot more comfortable than I used to be, but you know how I react when you get close to me, and I trust you."

"I'm aware," he drawled. "And I told you countless times not to."

"Well, my trust in you hasn't failed me yet."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You are far too sentimental, girl. It will be a wonder if you make it through this any less scarred than you already are, literally and figuratively."

Suddenly, Severus saw her face go completely blank of all expression. She'd learned it from watching him, he knew. He slipped into that mask when he was at his angriest. Not even her eyes betrayed the temper that he knew lay just under the surface. Anyone else watching would have thought she had become disinterested in the conversation, but he knew much better.

"It doesn't matter whether I'm experienced or not," she said evenly, meeting his gaze the entire time she spoke. "I suppose it will amuse Tom even more that I'm inexperienced. That just means you'll have to teach me and punish me until I get things right."

Severus blinked, but that was all he allowed himself to emote. He would not begin to wonder how much or little she knew; the thought itself was too disturbing, as this was his protégé, his student, someone he had been protecting for almost seven years.

"This memory we will set as tonight," he said, his voice calm and level. "We will talk about further communication between yourself and Potter. I will commend you for doing well earlier today."

"I don't need to know details," Rebecca said.

Her complete neutrality was slipping, being replaced with a slight hint of fear. That was what they needed to make these memories all the more real for the Dark Lord, who would be sure to look for them.

Severus felt disgusted with himself. He knew he always would when they would have to create these false memories. He could just completely fabricate them, but they would risk discovery. Completely created memories could almost never pass for the truth, especially with a master of Legilimency like the Dark Lord.

But he still felt like he was taking complete advantage of someone who had always put her utmost trust in him. It reminded him too much of Lily. Perhaps Albus' words after Black's death weren't so farfetched now, as he recalled them. Perhaps he was confusing Rebecca with Lily subconsciously.

He could not think about that now, he had to get into the persona of Death Eater Severus. It would be the only way he could get through this. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he began.

"You performed well today," he said, maintaining his position leaning against his desk.

"Thank you, sir," Rebecca said, her eyes focused on the ground in front of her.

"Look at me, pet."

He saw her jaw clench as she jerked her head up as she was told.

"I don't need your approval, just our Lord's," she said evenly.

Severus stood straight and took a step forward.

"Your loyalty to our Lord and his cause is admirable indeed," he said, leaning down until his nose was almost touching hers. "However, you must learn about your other duties."

"My only duty should be to try and bait Harry Potter into coming back to rescue me," Rebecca said, crossing her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm the only one close enough to him that could lure him back."

"That is_ not_ your assignment," Severus said through his teeth, grabbing her by the back of the neck.

She quickly stifled her cry as he pulled her to her feet. He forced her to look into his eyes.

"Should you receive any more messages from Potter, you will do just as you did today," he growled. "You will bring the message to me so that we may report it to our Lord. You are _not _a bearer of the Dark Mark, the greatest achievement one can obtain in the Dark Lord's service. You are merely my play thing. I, who have worked the longest and hardest for my Lord, have been gifted you. You mean nothing to him, and you mean nothing to me."

"That's not true," Rebecca managed to get out.

His hand released her neck and took her by the face, squeezing her cheeks together and shutting her mouth effectively. Rebecca was standing on her toes, attempting to relieve some of the pressure he was putting on her face. She made certain not to show how much pain she was in, but she allowed some of her fear to show through. She shivered slightly under his gaze.

"Listen to me carefully," Severus said, closing the gap between them. Her hair, slightly wavy, intermingled with his own. "The only reason the Dark Lord keeps you around is so you may keep me happy. That is what a gift is supposed to do: make its recipient happy. As soon as I am no longer happy with my gift, the Dark Lord will lose interest in it as well."

He paused, loosening his grip from her cheeks. She did not move. He saw a realization cross her eyes as she subtly sunk back onto the soles of her feet.

"Do you understand?" Severus asked slowly.

"Yes, _sir_."

There was a great anxiety in the air for nearly ten seconds until Severus broke it.

"That is enough for today, Rebecca."

She stepped away from him.

"You must stay here for a while longer lest the Carrows become suspicious," he continued.

Rebecca nodded, taking a seat again in the chair she previously occupied. Severus went around his desk and took his seat, going back to the parchment he had been scribbling upon before she came. Running a school was much more work than Albus ever made it out to be.

Rebecca watched him, noting that his movements were even graceful while writing. It was unfair that some people were naturally talented at such grace. Rebecca had had to learn such a skill, and even now sometimes lacked it. She dreaded stairs, thinking she'd either fall up or down them at any moment.

He was also incredibly strong, which should not have surprised her. Another thing she discovered was that she hadn't been completely afraid during this entire session. Perhaps it had something to do with him insulting her beforehand, or perhaps she really was getting better. Perhaps it was her trust in him. In any case, it did not matter. She wouldn't speak to him about how she felt during these proceedings, let alone anyone else.

Not enjoying the awkwardness the silence brought on, and noticing the portraits were slowly coming back, including Albus', Rebecca decided to fill the silence with her talk.

"I've decided the best way to gain access into the Inner Circle is through my experience in Potions," she said, watching him as he continued scribbling on the parchment.

He paused for a moment to look at her.

"I can come to you with the idea for a project," she said. "Maybe something that involves Potions and Transfiguration, to show Tom that I'm skilled in more than just one area, considering he already has a Potions Master at his disposal."

Severus thought for a moment. Potions and Transfiguration. It would be difficult, but she would be able to figure something out. He nodded curtly.

"Did you have a project in mind?"

Rebecca looked to Albus for a moment, as if to see if the portrait was paying attention. Of course, he was. Her eyes flicked back to Severus.

"What do you think Tom would say about me wishing to become an Animagus in his name?" she asked.

This made Severus pause. "What use would it be to him?"

"Tom wishes for eventual world domination," Albus said, as if reading Rebecca's mind. "If Rebecca was an Animagus, she could be a very good spy."

"You would need to inform him of what your Patronus Charm was, since you will discover you won't be able to form one the farther into the Death Eater culture you get," Severus said.

She caught the sarcasm in his voice. "You can still create a Patronus?" she asked.

He nodded. "Mine is a doe."

Harry's dad's Patronus, as well as Harry's own, was a stag. Rebecca wondered quickly what Lily's had been. That was not important.

"Mine's a wolf."

"Somehow, I'm left unsurprised," Severus said casually. "However, a wolf is still a powerful figure, and it continues with the impression the Dark Lord is giving having Greyback and other werewolves backing him. Think of a lesser project first, one that is not so uncomely of your current place in the order of things. I will approve that one, and you will think I will approve this one, too. I will take you to him for having such thoughts. Perhaps he will punish you, perhaps he will like your spirit. If I had to guess, with your current favor, I would say he is likely to choose the latter."

"Then I'd like to suggest that I work upon creating a type of Polyjuice Potion that works predominantly upon Transfiguration theories," Rebecca began, already scanning the books on the shelves as she spoke. "As you know, Polyjuice doesn't allow or account for human-to-animal transformations."

"Are you suggesting that you could create a potion that would allow such a thing?" Severus asked, incredulous.

She looked back to him briefly. "I believe it is possible." She continued scanning the books. "This could be useful to Tom because not all of his troops are adept enough at Transfiguration to even attempt a transformation of any sort upon themselves. Furthermore, even the best wizard or witch at Transfiguration would grow extremely tired after aiding in the transformations of two or three full-grown witches or wizards into something else."

"You're suggesting this for more spying purposes," Severus said evenly.

"Perhaps," Rebecca said. "It would also be quite helpful in scare tactics, I believe, for Ministries that need an extra push in the right direction to see why the Dark Lord's way is the best way." She looked to him and rolled her eyes for emphasis.

Severus looked to Albus.

"In theory, it is sound," said the old Headmaster. "Both in justification for the potion and the fact that it could possibly be created."

Rebecca smiled. Severus frowned. This would be too much to undertake along with everything else that she needed to accomplish. Feasibly, it was the only way they were going to even begin to get her into the Inner Circle, which was the desired end result.

"Very well," he said, looking back to Rebecca. "You will pose the potion idea to me tomorrow night. I will allow you to use my private library and give you an unlimited pass into the Restricted Section as a result. Your research, along with other memories, will continue until this Saturday, when you will believe your research is founded enough to suggest becoming an Animagus for our Lord."

Rebecca nodded. "Assuming I have enough research by then."

"That will be a necessity for this to play out to our advantage."

"I'm glad there's no pressure," Rebecca said sarcastically.

"That is something you'll have to get used to, Rebecca."

"I'm beginning to see that, Severus."

It was the first time she had said his first name out loud in a long while. He was beginning to think she had forgotten he'd given her permission. Now, he was wondering if that had been such a good idea. They were here now, and he wasn't entirely certain he wanted to default to their more professional titles to one another.

"If this is to occur, I suggest you get ahead in your studies to promote more time to this wonderful extracurricular activity," Severus continued. "You are dismissed for the evening."

* * *

"I had to watch Alecto Carrow give Neville a detention today after her appalling lecture on muggle culture," Rebecca said angrily as she entered the Headmaster's office.

If she had something to slam down onto the floor in her frustration, she would have. As it stood, all she could do was pace. Severus remained seated behind his desk, an eyebrow raised at her.

"I am well aware of Longbottom's detention," he said. "And I'll have you know I'm requiring all professors and the Head Boy and Girl to limit the detentions to mass ones on Friday evenings at seven, directly after dinner, so that I may oversee them. Or, I may give out detentions as I see fit. You have little to fear for Longbottom, despite the fact the Carrows will be issuing the punishment. I will make certain they do not go too far."

"Oh," Rebecca said, her pacing immediately stopped.

"You didn't think I'd leave my students to the devices of those wretched people."

The way he said it masked what it was she knew he was truly feeling; he said it as though he didn't care. It was not a question, but a statement made almost as an aside. Did she really think he would allow blatant torture to happen under his rule as Headmaster? was the underlying question to this. She quickly tried to backtrack.

"I figured you would have something planned," she said, approaching his desk in somewhat of a rush. She stood before it, an apology clearly written on her face. "I'm just angered by the lesson I had to grin and bear through."

"Yes, she quite enjoys that speech," Severus said, sneering. He chose to ignore her non-verbal apology as a means of acceptance. What did it matter, besides? "'Muggles are not human, they are lower than the house elves that have been born to serve us.' I've heard it countless times."

"I can't wait to silence it," Rebecca said.

He saw that her fists were clenched so much that her knuckles were pure white. He didn't recall seeing her so angry since the night of Black's death, when he had assumed she was in love with him and had used Legilimency on her without permission to find out the truth. She was, perhaps, at her magically best when she was angry; he had seen this before, when he had goaded her into using Legilimency on him. She had been far too timid to do it herself.

Rebecca was changing remarkably before his eyes. She was able to harness this rage to her advantage, as he saw just the night before when she utilized her anger as a means of better acting. She may have been doing it subconsciously, but he suspected not.

He nodded curtly. "You will have your chance," he murmured.

She smirked, her hands unclenching.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the seat across from him. "We must begin sooner rather than later."

She descended into the chair and got comfortable, crossing her right leg over her left. He noted that her movements were much more graceful. It probably had to do with the dance lessons the Malfoys had given her over the summer.

"Tell me, pet, what it was you wanted to talk about," he said, lacing his fingers together as he slipped into the Death Eater persona.

"Sir, I wish to be of use to our Lord in some way," she began, holding her head high.

"As I already know. To the point, chit."

His words were sharp, harsh, and would normally cut through any nervous Hufflepuff in a moment. But not his Slytherin.

"I would like to propose an additional assignment specifically for our Lord, involving Potions and Transfiguration," she continued, unfazed.

Severus allowed himself to pause a moment to hold her under his unwavering gaze. "Two daring subjects," he said. "What would you create with this combination?"

"A potion that would successfully re-create Animagi," she said coolly.

Severus narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "You think very highly of yourself, _pet_, if you believe you can accomplish something of this magnitude," he practically hissed. He let thoughts of pride, but a little bit of jealousy, flood his brain. The Dark Lord would want to see them. "Tell me, what would our Lord want with a potion like this?"

"Not only could our Lord's most prized followers be able to transfigure easily into an Animagus form with the help of this potion, which will be modeled after the Polyjuice Potion, he can utilize them in any number of ways," Rebecca said, letting a nervous lilt slip through her speech. "I realize our Lord has thoughts of total world domination under his rule, and I believe this will aid him at least in part. These potion-created Animagi will allow easier spying programs to be instituted, to know how best to take down other Ministries. Those who transfigure into much larger forms could be used to help convince other Ministries that it would be best to follow our Lord instead of fight against him."

Severus put his finger on his chin in thought. Her logic was sound, her examples interesting, and her want to prove herself entrancing.

"I will present this to our Lord at the next available opportunity," he said slowly. "I will allow him to pass judgment."

"Thank you, sir," Rebecca said with a slight nod of her head.

Severus stood; so did Rebecca, almost simultaneous with his movements. She immediately tensed.

"Your desire to please our Lord is stunning," Severus continued, slowly walking around the desk.

Rebecca took a calculated step backward, remaining a few feet out of his grasp as he made his way toward her.

"Do not run, pet, your loyalty and intellect should be rewarded," Severus said with a derisive smirk.

It was her turn to sneer at him. "Don't touch me," she whispered, as though her throat did not want to allow the syllables out.

Severus could practically see her heart pounding through her robes.

"You have no room to talk to me in such a manner," he growled, finally having backed her into a corner of his office, between the fireplace and a bookshelf, which created a small nook that she wedged herself into.

He came very close to her, his body quickly covering hers. She pushed against him, but he took her wrists in his hands, effectively stopping her movements. Suddenly, he snapped her around in his arms, so she was trapped between both her arms and his own. The limbs were tangled together; she was encased within his robes. Rebecca felt his nose in her hair, and she grimaced, remembering how Greyback had smelled her just like this.

She felt him move downward, toward her neck, and her efforts to attempt escape were renewed. He grunted as his grip around her tightened.

"You must learn that this is your place," he whispered against her neck.

"Please stop."

Her whimpering tone nearly broke him, but he pulled her tighter against his body. This had to look real; he could show no remorse, even if he didn't want to hurt her—or touch her—as he was doing. This was to save them both.

Rebecca tried to remove herself from the present by retreating into her mind, but it was difficult to not feel his skin against hers, to not allow that feeling of helplessness consume her. All she could think about was her fear. She did not want to be here. She had to focus, make this memory good so they would not have to repeat it.

Her thoughts turned. She wished he would let her go. Rebecca wanted to start on her project for her Lord as soon as possible.

Severus felt her give up her struggle. He became quickly disinterested and threw her from his grasp.

Rebecca stumbled forward, not prepared to be jolted. She caught herself on the chair sitting before his desk and turned to face him, her breathing picking up from her fright.

"Take off your robe," he said, remaining unmoving.

"What?"

She furrowed her brows, hands grasping the chair. They began to quiver.

"Take. Off. Your robe," he repeated, taking one step toward her.

Rebecca's hands shot up to the clasp and fumbled with it for a moment. Her robe fell to the floor. She stood in her school uniform: white, button-up collared shirt, Slytherin tie, and grey skirt that fell to just above her knees.

He took her in as he continued to approach her. He stopped half a foot from her and saw the nervousness upon her face. Even her bottom lip quivered slightly every so often.

"Your tie," Severus said silkily.

That dropped next to the floor, leaving her collar slightly open. He could see the skin on her neck. She was now outright trembling.

"Your shirt."

"Professor—"

She looked as though she was going to burst into tears, but he merely raised his hand, the back of it facing her. She flinched; he smirked.

"Remove your shirt, _pet_."

Rebecca's hands were shaking as the top button popped out of its hole.

"Stop," he said.

His voice lost its earlier edge. Rebecca stole a glance at him, and he had backed away from her considerably before going behind his desk.

"I will allow you to fix the memory as you see fit," he said, not meeting her gaze as he spoke. "Tea?"

He finally looked her way.

Rebecca nodded absently as she put her tie back on. Severus called a house elf, and who should appear but Dobby?

"Yes, Headmaster?" Dobby asked with a slight bow in Severus' direction.

"Tea for myself and my guest," Severus said.

Dobby turned to Rebecca and gave her a kind look as she put her robes back on. "Tea for Headmaster and Miss Rebecca, friend of Harry Potter," he said.

Severus sneered as the elf disappeared. "Perhaps the rumor he will inevitably spread will reach the Dark Lord and amuse him," he said with a roll of his eyes.

He took his seat; she remained standing, unable to find herself comfortable enough to sit.

"How are your classes besides Muggle Studies?" he asked casually. He continued to not look at her, rearranging things upon his desk instead.

"The others are all as usual," Rebecca said. "But Defense Against the Dark Arts appears to have become the Dark Arts, much to Slytherins' delight and the other Houses' chagrin."

Her voice was even, though her mind raced to attempt to calm herself down.

"Yes, Amycus has quite the affinity for the Imperius Curse."

"He wanted to use me as an example yesterday," Rebecca said. "Draco stopped him."

His head whipped up to meet her gaze. There was anger in his eyes though his expression was neutral.

"He will receive punishment," Severus said simply.

"Because he tried to touch what was yours?"

She couldn't help but sound sarcastic, which he chose to ignore.

"That is what it will appear to be," he replied.

Dobby returned that moment, carrying a tray with a tea set on it. He placed it on Severus' desk.

"Can Dobby be getting anything else for Headmaster and Miss Rebecca?"

"That is all, Dobby," Severus said with a wave of his hand.

With another slight bow, then a much larger one in Rebecca's direction, the house elf disappeared again. Severus shook his head.

"The meddling house elf will get himself killed someday," Severus muttered as he took up the teapot and poured himself a cup.

"Don't say that," Rebecca said quietly. "Dobby's a good person."

Severus raised an eyebrow at her. "He is not a person."

"He's better than most."

"He'd be a Hufflepuff," Severus said as he sipped on his tea.

Rebecca shook her head, moving toward the desk to take some tea. "Gryffindor."

"Perhaps."

"Either way, you still wouldn't like him."

"I rarely like anyone."

"You like me," Rebecca said, stirring in her two spoons of sugar.

Severus' teacup was half-way to his lips when it stopped. There was silence.

"You wouldn't be trying to protect me if you didn't like me," Rebecca continued, taking a sip.

He still did not respond.

"Perhaps Albus ordered you to like me," Rebecca said as the portrait walked back into his frame.

"You are my student and a Slytherin who has been part of my charge for six years," Severus finally said. "I could not leave you to the dogs."

"But you haven't gone this far to protect the other Slytherins."

"The other Slytherins are not muggleborn," Severus said.

Albus remained silent, though Rebecca glanced at him, as if hoping he would put in his opinion.

"I will give you until tomorrow to work on that memory," Severus said. "I seem to remember you have a free period in the later afternoon before dinner."

"I dropped Divinations in my sixth year," Rebecca said.

"A good decision, it seems," Severus said. "Once you are finished, you will share it with me so we'll have another memory to present to the Dark Lord."

Rebecca nodded.

"How was your stay with the Malfoys' this summer?" Severus asked. He had forgotten that he hadn't said a word about it to her the entirety of the time they'd been back at Hogwarts.

"Enlightening."

"How so?"

"The Malfoys don't support Tom anymore."

Severus stared at her.

"Draco all but told me," she continued.

"That is why the two of you have become close, then?"

Rebecca shrugged. "He's not so bad now that I understand where he's coming from. I never truly hated him to begin with—just when he was being a prick. But we're family. Malfoys help their family; it's all that matters to them."

Severus nodded slowly. The Malfoys may have been many things, but once you were allied to them through marriage or birth (and your blood or social status did not hurt them), they were fierce in their protective measures.

"Draco hinted that Lucius and Narcissa could be persuaded to our side," Rebecca said. "They have a special means of communication, some sort of code. I haven't learned it, but it looks as though it would come in handy. Bellatrix also taught Draco Occlumency over the summer," she said as an afterthought.

"I figured she would be up to something. How did Draco fair?"

"Well, I think. She sounded happy on her last visit, just before we came back to school. Draco should be able to protect himself from Tom."

Severus did not respond, but drank his tea for a few moments as he pondered what she told him. Even still, she proved her worth as a spy. It was always better to have another pair of ears, as he was certain she would prove yet again once they managed to bring her into the Inner Circle.

It suddenly concerned him how easy he thought it all would be, though he knew it not to be true. However, if any muggleborn could do it, it was the one sitting before him, looking at him expectantly.

"We will keep him in the dark for now," Severus said finally. "But it should become clear to him fairly quickly what is occurring once you have received your Mark."

Rebecca gave a nod.

"I'd also suggest you remove the pendant with Fawkes' feather inside of it," Severus said.

His eyes were locked onto the bracelet she'd made. Rebecca held onto it.

"You may also wear the locket I gave you openly," he continued. "No one would dare to question it."

Rebecca made no response.

"Severus is merely looking out for your safety, Rebecca," Albus said from his portrait. "It would be wise to listen to him. You will not so easily forget any of what the feather symbolizes."

"I'll keep it in my trunk until the war is over," Rebecca said. "It will remain as it is. Once Tom is dead, I can just wear Fawkes' feather and not have to keep it a secret."

She still held out hope. It was the only thing keeping her going.

"If there are no more questions, I need to continue getting ahead in my studies," Rebecca said. "Tomorrow night I can begin researching."

"Very well," Severus replied. "Until tomorrow, Rebecca."

He watched her leave silently, the door shutting behind her.

* * *

Rebecca worked diligently upon the memory for the next day, making certain that it looked as perfect as it could. Her life, Severus' life, depended upon the believability of this memory. She entered the Headmaster's office a bit nervously, knowing what she was about to show him. It fit with the memory, and she was fairly certain it was what he was implying but never explicitly said when he told her she would be creating the rest of the memory: she knew what she looked like underneath her robes, and would therefore be able to create this part much easier than he.

Tonight, he was sitting next to the fireplace, where she and Albus had sat increasingly often by the end of the last term due to the curse slowly overtaking his body. He complained that he was cold almost constantly. She took the seat across from him and waited for him to acknowledge her.

Severus was reading a book whose title Rebecca couldn't see. Five more books lay on the table beside him, the pages facing her. Finally, he closed the book he was reading and put it down on top of the others.

"I've been doing some preliminary research," he said, taking all of the books into his hands. He crossed the room and began replacing them on the shelves. "I do not wish to look as though I was helping you, but you will find them all in this bookshelf, to give you a place to begin."

When he was finished, he returned to his seat before the fire. He did not wish to broach the topic that he knew he must.

"I assume you have completed the memory?"

"Yes. I attempted to create what I thought would be the best escalation of events," she said.

"Show me," he said, a cue to her to drop her Occlumency, which she did. "_Legilimens_."

She made it easy for him to find. He knew she had probably been thinking on it all day. He skipped through the first part of the memory that they had created together the night before, not wanting to be too sick with himself for what he had to put her through.

He watched as her fingers slowly slid each button from its hole in her shirt. She kept it closed, however, for a split second longer than she should have. He saw himself mouth the words, "Take. It. Off."

Her hands still shaking, she did so, letting the shirt drop to the floor. She stood uncomfortably before him in her plain white cotton bra. Her arms crossed over her chest in a protective manner as she quickly looked to the floor, appearing nearly broken.

He took a quick stride toward her and grabbed her arms, moving them firmly to her sides. He took in his fill. Her breasts were ample, though one could never been able to tell underneath her robes and uniform. Her skin was extremely pale, though not unpleasantly so. She shivered, both from cold and terror at what he could do next. He saw the goose bumps rising on her chest.

A tear hit her neck, and he looked up to see she had allowed one to escape from her eyes, which quivered with her unabashed resentment. His hand was at the small of her back, pulling her toward him; she made a quickly hushed noise of surprise and tensed in his grip. His other hand pushed her head to the side, fisting in her hair to keep her in place. Rebecca grimaced, both in pain and distress as he licked the tear from her neck.

He was just an inch from her earlobe. Her skin was cold, nearing clamminess, but he drew his lips along her neck until he hovered above her ear.

His lips mouthed, "You are mine. Do not forget this."

He pressed her to his body, eliciting a pull against him.

The memory faded. Severus broke their connection and could only stare at her guardedly. She had managed to create all of the sensations and appropriate responses. He was quite certain he could not have made a better memory.

"I—I just need you to fill in your lines," she said. "That is, if it's up to your standards."

"It will do," Severus said.

He repeated the phrases necessary and allowed her a few minutes to make the changes to the memory before adding it to his own memory banks, those reserved for the Dark Lord.

"I'll begin my research," Rebecca said, once that was accomplished.

"In about an hour, ask me about becoming an Animagi," Severus said, as he went back to his desk. "Make certain you feel confident enough in your reasoning behind doing so before broaching the subject."

Rebecca nodded, then went to work. She had no problem engrossing herself in the activity. She had managed to finish most of her more trivial homework assignments through the end of the week over the past two evenings, so she wouldn't have to worry about them. All she cared about now was discovering if this potion was possible.

After about forty-five minutes of quiet research, she allowed her own plan to come to mind. Though she did not enjoy her current position, it was all she had at the moment. And, she told herself, she was the pet of her Lord's right-hand man, a man of power. If she could convince the Dark Lord that she was Snape's equal or better, she could get out of this position she was in currently. Snape had seemed receptive to her original idea the night before, as was proven in his choice of words: "you must be rewarded." Though she hardly considered what had happened a reward, the more attention he gave her, the better off she would be in the end.

And what better way to gain attention both from your Lord and your… whatever he was. Master? That would do for now. To gain attention from your Lord and your master, what better way than to present yourself as the most capable witch of your age when it came to Transfiguration? She would tell Snape her desire to become an Animagi in order to aid her Lord. It was not his decision to make, in any case, so what did it matter if he said no? Her Lord would discover her desires soon enough, one way or another.

"Sir?" she said, looking up from her book.

He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. "This had better be important."

"I was thinking about the actual transfiguration process of becoming an Animagi," Rebecca said quickly. "I believe I could do it, to better serve our Lord."

Severus stood quickly, crossing the distance between them in giant strides. She was soon pressed against the bookshelf, trying to get away from his looming figure.

"I don't think you understand your place," he growled at her. "I allow you to use my personal library for your research project that our Lord may not even want nor need, especially from a lowly servant, and this is how you repay my kindness?"

He ripped the book from her hands and threw it to the floor, making a loud "bang." Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again.

"I just thought—"

"That is the problem that I find with you," Severus said with a sneer. "You _think_ far too much for a proper pet."

"That is what you said you enjoyed about me as a student, sir."

"Whatever compliment I may have given you was perhaps an effort on my part to relieve me from your constant pestering for a day or two."

Rebecca felt the blow to her ego and shrunk back from him and further into the books. Their hard edges pressed into her back through her robes, but it was better than having him too close to her.

"My apologies for being presumptuous," Rebecca whispered to his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Better," Severus said, staring down at her. Who did the chit think she was? This was yet another concern he would have to report to his Lord. "Get back to your research. You're lucky that I've given you what I have thus far. And keep quiet, I have my own work to do."

"Yes, sir."

He stalked back to his desk, leaving her to pick up the book he had thrown to the floor. She knew it was acting. She knew it was necessary in order to save both their lives. But it was still painful to listen to. Rebecca knew that he wasn't a man to give much praise and never an apology, so she didn't expect anything like that from him. But some small word of encouragement, something to let her know that this was not all for naught… anything would be helpful at this point.

It was Albus who spoke up first.

"Have you received further communication from Harry and the others?" he asked, as if noting her distress.

Rebecca didn't realize she was still kneeling, holding the book in one hand. She stood up to address him.

"Not yet," she said. "But I should soon, I think. I don't know if Dobby can find them."

"Not unless they can find a way to call Dobby to them," Albus said. "But then again, house elves have mysterious magic."

Rebecca nodded. "I'm sure they'll find a way to get into contact with me eventually… Especially when they need help."

"As Gryffindors tend to do," Severus muttered from his desk.

Rebecca gripped the book a little tighter, but said nothing.

"I'm surprised they continued communication with you over the remainder of the summer, what with your new status."

"Severus," Albus said, surprised.

"Albus, you saw how they treated her at school. The way they used her was no better than how the Slytherins treated her."

"I'm not in the mood to have my friends' loyalties questioned in front of me," Rebecca said firmly.

"You shouldn't have continued your friendship once you were Sorted into Slytherin," Severus said. "You should have known better."

"Known better? As a muggleborn?" Rebecca said. "I was _not_ going to abandon the only people who spoke to me civilly on the train just because of some House."

"You would have done well to take my advice that year and the years following. You would have been much better off."

"I would probably be dead or at least in hiding," Rebecca told him. "A Mudblood in the House of Slytherin would not have looked well. Had there been no one outside of my House to protect me, I wouldn't have lasted long, especially this year."

Severus was opening his mouth to fire another verbal assault, but Rebecca stopped him with a deadly look, something else she had learned from him.

"Why don't you take your own advice and learn when to shut the hell up?" she snapped.

Albus was completely still as the silence between the two grew very tense. He could see Severus visibly shaking with his ire. He was quite surprised the man hadn't already done what he would normally do, but he could not help remember what he had seen the night he had died on the Astronomy Tower. Could he be wrong? Of course. But as he had always said, his guesses were usually correct. With every passing second of Severus' silence, Albus began to think he was correct in this matter between them.

Finally, Severus spoke. "Take the books you are reading and get out of my office."

Without waiting another moment, Rebecca gathered the items she needed and shrunk them to fit into her pocket as she stormed her way across the room to the exit. No sooner had the door shut loudly behind her than did Severus speak.

"I don't want a word from you, Albus."

The portrait kept his silence, allowing Severus to get back to his own work.

* * *

Her classes had proven more stressful than usual two days before her meeting with the Dark Lord. In Potions, a Ravenclaw had dropped something into her potion just as Rebecca had turned around. As soon as she heard her potion beginning to bubble, she drew her wand and cast a Shrinking Charm at the cauldron, which immediately retracted into itself. She placed a Bubblehead Charm around the mini-cauldron just as it exploded, filling the charm with noxious fumes.

The Ravenclaw, standing at the next table, looked at the smoke-filled Bubblehead Charm. Slughorn was at Rebecca's workspace, casting multiple Stasis Charms upon the area and tiny cauldron. This gave Rebecca time to look Michael Corner, the Ravenclaw in question, over.

He practically trembled under her gaze. She stepped toward him, her wand pointed at his face.

"What did you put in my cauldron?" she said, her voice raised.

"Miss Felan!" Slughorn said, moving his portly figure between her and the Ravenclaw. "Lower your wand right now!"

"Not until he tells me what he put in my cauldron," Rebecca growled.

"A-aconite," Michael said.

"You put aconite into an unknown potion?" Slughorn asked, turning to face Corner.

"I-I didn't think it would do _that_," the Ravenclaw stammered.

"That's it, isn't it? You didn't _think_ you damned tart," Rebecca said, stowing her wand inside her robes.

"Miss Felan, your language," Slughorn said.

"Professor, Corner needs to understand that he nearly killed us all," she said, glaring at him over Slughorn's shoulder. "I was working on Exploding Fluid to study its properties for our independent potions. I was going to improve upon it, but Corner decided that at its most turbulent stage it was necessary to put one of the most poisonous plants known to wizarding society into my cauldron. Even the slightest jolt to its base makes this potion explode. Depending on whatever was placed into it, a number of things can happen."

"Like filling the room with a poisonous gas, I know. Miss Felan, please calm yourself," Slughorn implored.

"Don't hang round in the corridors after curfew, Corner," Rebecca snapped. "You'll notice I'll be less than kind then."

"Five points from Slytherin for your outburst, Miss Felan!" Slughorn said, taking a step toward the girl. "Get out of my classroom."

Rebecca had known this would happen, but she drew it out for as long as she could. The Slytherins—the majority of the classroom—all looked on in approval as she glared at Slughorn until he looked as though he would relent. The Potions Master seemed to steel himself, bringing his stumpy, round body up to its full height. At that point, Rebecca grabbed her books and stormed from the dungeons.

Honestly, she wouldn't have snapped at Michael if she hadn't needed to solidify her new image within the Slytherins' minds as well as the rest of the Houses' minds. Even Slughorn needed to understand that she was not one to be trifled with this year. It made her feel terrible, to alienate the people who she had once looked to, some of them who she once called friends just this past term. But she couldn't afford to appear as she had last term. If she was going to get into the Inner Circle, she would need to change. It still made her feel terrible.

Dark Arts, as she'd started calling it, began that afternoon with Amycus Carrow teaching the Cruciatus Curse. He limped a bit as he walked about the classroom. Suddenly, he turned upon Rebecca.

"Let's have a demonstration, shall we?" he called. "_Crucio_!"

Rebecca felt the spell hit her in the back, between her shoulder blades. She fell to the floor and convulsed, but ground her teeth together and fought the urge to scream, for a few moments before the onslaught stopped. No one in the room appeared happy except for Carrow. She lay panting on the floor.

"Get up," Carrow's voice said from behind her.

Without a word, Rebecca got to her knees before pushing herself up onto her feet. Her legs trembled beneath her, and though she winced once or twice, she appeared otherwise unharmed.

"That is how a proper Cruciatus Curse should be performed," Amycus continued, pointing in Rebecca's direction. "Now, Felan, come here."

She did so, though stiffly. Carrow took her by the shoulders, which made Rebecca instantly move away from him. Amycus looked highly affronted before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him.

"You must practice yourself, Felan," he growled, tossing her forward. "Practice on Longbottom."

Those who were around Neville huddled closer to him, but he pushed them away and stepped from the mass. He'd grown quite brave over the summer, Rebecca noted. He spoke up more in class, like he had earlier in the week to Alecto, and challenged the new establishment at Hogwarts every step of the way. It was quite admirable, though stupid for how obvious it was. But that was what Gryffindors did best, she told herself.

"Felan, _now_," Carrow said to her.

Rebecca slowly raised her wand, only to find her arm was shaking. Neville looked directly into her eyes and he showed no fear. She gave him an apologetic look, finding her eyes watered slightly. His eyes lightened at her expression, and she suddenly understood that he knew what she was doing; she wasn't alone.

But now how to make this look convincing so she wouldn't be forced to do it again? She thought of Bellatrix, the moment after she'd killed Sirius, and what she, herself, would have done to the Death Eater had she been in her correct wits.

"Felan!" shouted Carrow.

"_Crucio_!" Rebecca called.

Neville was bowled over by the curse, which Rebecca only held for a moment. The Slytherins applauded, as they of course would be expected to. The other Houses looked on in disgust. Dean and Seamus came forward to help Neville up, who was still shaking from the trauma the curse caused.

"Everyone, practice!" Carrow said joyfully, placing his Slytherins on one side of the room and those from other Houses on the other.

The rest of class was spent cursing the other students. Rebecca had to join in cursing the students from other Houses, though she cringed inwardly as they "practiced."

Those who'd been cursed were slow to leave, and Rebecca waited outside in the corridor from them, in one of the inlets where she wouldn't be noticed. As Neville walked past, she motioned to him. He approached her cautiously, but she held up her hands in surrender.

"Tell the others that a warm bath helps," she said quietly. "All they have to do is soak for about a half-hour, and the cramps go away."

"Thanks, Becca," Neville replied with a slight smile. He held out his hand, but she shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she passed him. Luckily, the corridor was empty as she did.

By the time she entered the Headmaster's office that evening after dinner, she was tired. Rebecca was certain anyone could see it on her face. She'd noticed the growing dark circles under her eyes that morning when she looked in the mirror, but didn't bother to cover them up. They made her look all the more menacing, almost haunted, which would add to her new personality as Head Girl.

Severus was looking out the window, which had a nice view of the lake. In the darkening skies, he could see the giant squid that lived in the lake waving its tentacles around above the surface of the water happily. He turned when she entered. He noticed her shoulders were slumped forward slightly, her bag hanging lower than normal. When she glanced up at him, he noted the tiredness in and around her eyes. She was not one to be trifled with at the moment.

She let her bag fall to the ground before the chair, then sat down. She pulled out one of the texts he'd given her and showed him the cover.

"This has some general theories behind how a human-to-animal transfiguration potion would work," she announced. She set that book on his desk before she pulled out the next book. "This one has notes on failed attempts before. I believe I discovered where they went wrong." She set down the second book before pulling out the third. "This book has yet another failed experiment." The third went on top of the stack and she pulled out a fourth and fifth tome. "And these were useless. I poured over them both for three hours each last night and found nothing."

She set those on top of the other three.

"Thank you for allowing me to borrow them, but I've gotten all I can from them," she continued.

"You took notes, I presume?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He approached his desk and perused the two on top she had deemed "useless."

"And let someone else find them so I can lose my edge? Of course not," Rebecca said quickly. "You were the one who told me a good spy doesn't need notes."

He nodded. He had, indeed, told her that two summers ago. He wondered how many of his words and pieces of advice had stayed with her over the years.

Severus opened his mouth to say something when she interrupted.

"Can we just get on with whatever memory we're supposed to perform tonight? I have an essay I need to get started on for Professor Flitwick."

Severus considered her for a moment, but Albus was the first to speak.

"Rebecca, you don't look well," the portrait said. "How have you been sleeping?"

She put a hand over her face. "Not well," she said, using her last shred of control to not snap at the portrait.

"Perhaps you could share with us what's gotten you so out of sorts today," Albus continued, trying to be amiable. "You don't have to bottle things up."

"Whatever happened today isn't of any concern," Rebecca said. "It was nothing out of the ordinary. The memory?"

She glanced to Severus, who remained where he was for a moment. It appeared she was not going to apologize for her outburst the night before, which had come over her when she was most stressed. Today, she appeared even more strained than yesterday. He imagined she would not perform well tomorrow. By the time her meeting with the Dark Lord was to occur on Saturday, she might be in no shape to face him and could set everything back, maybe even get herself killed.

"I overheard something curious at the staff table during lunch," Severus said slowly, watching his young protégé as he did. "Horace was attempting to express his concerns for you quietly to Minerva. It seems you threatened Michael Corner in Potions this morning in retaliation for him purposefully placing aconite into your Exploding Fluid."

Rebecca said nothing. She stared out at the lake scene behind him, watching the giant squid neutrally.

"While I can recognize your motives and commend you for tearing into the dunderhead who clearly should not be in an Advanced Potions-Making class, I also understand _you_," Severus said. "I know that what you must do in order to promote your new image takes its toll on you psychologically. I will not have you 'bottle things up,' as Albus so puts it, because it means that you run the risk of getting yourself killed by the Dark Lord. It only takes one slip."

"I'm fine," Rebecca said quietly, still not looking at him.

"I also know that Amycus was having his Advanced classes practice the Cruciatus Curse today. I wonder if he cursed you, even after the warning I gave him Tuesday evening. Perhaps after cursing you, he made you 'practice' on one of your _friends_ from Gryffindor."

"And if that is what occurred?" Rebecca said.

"Just one more thing that you need to express. It is yet another means of making you pause to question your own judgment."

"I'm not questioning my judgment."

"If you haven't, you soon will, especially as you begin to gain more and more favor with the Dark Lord."

"So no part of my life is to remain secret anymore?" Rebecca asked, finally looking at him.

A long silence filled the room. None of the portraits dared to move. The tension that was between the two living creatures in the Headmaster's office was nearly palpable. There hadn't been a scene quite so interesting to the portraits as when Harry Potter had begun destroying Albus' things while the old Headmaster had sat by and not done a thing.

"There could be no secrets between us the moment you learned Legilimency," Severus said. "I assume you have not forgotten."

"No, there is very little I forget," Rebecca said, reaching for the books on the desk she had no use for. She picked them up and crossed the room to the bookshelf she had found them on and began re-shelving them.

"Now that we've covered the fact that you find me incapable under the tiniest amount of stress, may we continue with the memory?" she asked, turning back to look at him.

It was times such as these Severus wanted to hex her. She was infuriating for not understanding that he was trying to protect her, protect himself, protect the whole wizarding world. She would learn that it was more difficult than she could imagine, facing the Dark Lord one-on-one under the stress that she didn't have to put herself through. However, if she thought she did not require his help, he was not the type to force it upon her.

"Very well," he said. "By now, if any of this were actually occurring, I would be growing impatient that my gift is not performing up to her duties," Severus said after the room had been cleared.

"Naturally."

"However, I find myself afraid to approach you too forwardly because of your strength in magic," he continued. "This will be a concern that I will express to the Dark Lord before you meet with him Saturday afternoon. He will find it amusing, but I must show him I'm trying. You must show him that you fight back. Remember, I have shamed you by forcing you to remove your clothing."

"Yes, I understand," Rebecca said quickly. "Might I suggest something for our memory today? It just occurred to me."

Severus nodded his ascent.

"Call Amycus Carrow to your office," she said. "You want to have another word with him. He can catch us in our memory, so neither of us will have to complete it."

He considered this for a moment before moving to the fireplace. He took a bit of Floo Powder and cast it into the flames. Once they turned green, he spoke.

"Amycus Carrow's office," he said clearly.

There was a flash, and a voice came through the fire.

"Yes, Snape?"

"Amycus, I wish for you and your sister to come to my office immediately," he said. "We must speak."

"I'll get her, then."

The flames went out and Severus turned back to her.

"We will give them a few moments before beginning," he said.

"Start whenever, it's better if I'm not expecting it," she told him. She shifted uncomfortably.

Truthfully, she wanted to get whatever they had to do over with. Though she understood what she needed to do in order to achieve her means, and she would do so (as that was the Slytherin way), it _was_ uncomfortable. Rebecca knew Severus hated himself for having to do this, and she could tell he resented Albus for changing events so she would have to come back to Hogwarts. The faster they got these memories done was more time she could spend with him just as themselves, no acting necessary. It was stress relief in and of itself.

"How is your research for our Lord coming along?" Severus asked suddenly.

"Well," she replied, "I should have enough information to give to him Saturday."

"Very good. Perhaps since you've been so expedient in your research, you would do well to turn your focus back on your _duties_."

He approached her. Rebecca pulled out her wand. Severus gave her a derisive grin.

"Come now, pet, don't think you could overpower me."

"I didn't ever agree to this," Rebecca said hastily, her wand jabbing toward him at her last word. "What gives you the right to stake a claim in me? I'm a part of the noble house of Black—I shouldn't have to submit to this."

"That is not for you to decide," he snapped. With a flick of his wrist and nothing more, her wand flew from her hand. He caught it as it arced toward him. He tossed it onto his desk behind him before turning back to her. "You are at the mercy of our Lord's desires. He desires that I am satisfied, something that you are _not_ doing."

"It is _beneath_ me," Rebecca all but spat out. She took a step to the side, making certain he could not trap her against the bookshelves as he had done last time.

Snape chuckled. "It would be beneath me to even consider your feelings," he told her. "Despite the purity of your blood, it has been tainted by the blood of muggles for generations. You should be glad that I've even condescended myself enough to take notice of you."

"No," Rebecca said, shaking her head. She looked as though she were attempting not to listen to him.

He stepped toward her, taking great strides to cross the room in only a few seconds. He made sure to keep himself between her and his desk, where her wand sat. Rebecca backed away from him, failing in her attempts at masking her fear.

"Yes," he said. "If I had not thought you would be an amusing pet, you would be much worse off than you are now. Time to count your blessings."

Rebecca stood near the fireplace, the great wingback chair between them.

"I won't play this game, pet," he said, staring her down.

"I will not submit."

He lunged for her, but she bolted to the right, heading for his desk. Her salvation lay in her wand. Snape muttered a spell under his breath, tripping her. Rebecca fell face-first toward the hard stone floor of the castle, barely breaking her fall with her arms. She tried to get up, but he was over her an instant later, catching her by the arms and flipping her on her back. She was panting as he loomed over her, reaching forward and tearing her cloak from her. She screamed, real fear evident behind it and how she struggled to free herself from his grasp.

The door to the office opened, revealing Amycus and Alecto. Severus frowned as he looked toward them, then went impassive, as if he remembered he'd been the one to invite them here. Rebecca was still panting underneath him. He stood, yanking her up.

"Enter," he told them, nearly crushing Rebecca to him. To the Carrows, it would appear as though he were hiding his arousal from them. It was also a way to ensure they would understand just how much Rebecca belonged to _him_, to show how much he prized what was _his_.

The Carrows came in, shutting the door behind them. Alecto was glaring at Rebecca, though attempting to make it not look so harsh. Amycus didn't look as though he enjoyed being called to the Headmaster's office for the second time in a week.

"My pet has informed me that she's had the Cruciatus Curse performed upon her," Snape said. "As a result, she is more fragile than usual. I've already warned you once, Amycus, that I do not enjoy other people touching what is mine."

"Snape, the bitch is lying!" Amycus said, sneering at her.

Rebecca flinched like the good actress, making Snape bring her under his cloak now, as if shielding her.

"Do not think I'm daft, Amycus," Snape continued. "I saw the others in your Advanced classes—the other Houses look worse for the wear, clear signs of having the Cruciatus cast upon them by those unfamiliar with the curse."

"And so what if I did curse your little Mudblood, Snape?" Amycus asked. "Another punishment? Where do you get off?"

"The Dark Lord has gifted Felan to me, and with every curse you place upon her, the less willing she is to cooperate with me," Snape said, his tone deadly. "The Dark Lord does not appreciate it when his most _trusted_ Death Eater is not content."

Amycus looked displeased, but quickly dropped his gaze. He understood where he lay in the hierarchy of Death Eaters, and though he and his sister had risen in ranks somewhat, they were nowhere near as powerful as Snape.

"Let this be a lesson to you both," Snape said, his voice just as pressing as it was before, "make a move against my pet again, and I _will_ get the Dark Lord involved. He has great plans for this witch, despite her less than stellar birth, and should she be harmed before then, he will be greatly displeased."

The Carrows stood rigidly.

"Do I make myself clear?" Snape asked.

"Yes," Alecto said, putting her hands on the shoulders of her brother. "We understand, Snape."

"You are dismissed."

They left the room. Snape turned Rebecca in his arms to face him.

"I do not like others touching what is mine," he told her forcefully, gripping her upper arms. "Should anyone touch you, they will suffer."

"Yes, sir," Rebecca said quietly.

Snape looked over her face before sneering. "You'll be useless to me today," he said, pushing her from him. He watched her stumble before catching her footing. "Get out of my office."

Rebecca turned from him, but paused just as she reached the door. She turned back to him. He already looked visibly relaxed.

"Calling them was a good idea," Severus said. "I think it will help protect you and your new reputation, but it helps what I will tell the Dark Lord as well."

Rebecca nodded.

"Have you had any other contact with Potter?"

"No. I'm starting to worry, but there's nothing I can do about it," she said.

"We must locate them so Severus can deliver Gryffindor's sword to them," Albus said suddenly from his portrait. "It's the only way Harry will be able to destroy the Horcruxes."

"I want to be there when you give it to him," Rebecca said.

"I won't just walk up to the boy and give him the sword," Severus said, rolling his eyes.

"Obviously; he doesn't trust you. He thinks I don't even trust you."

"At least you could fool them effectively."

"It wasn't too difficult. Hermione helped by jumping to conclusions I'm sure she shared with the boys."

Severus said nothing.

"It's not like I'd get in the way," Rebecca continued. "I just want to see them, to make sure they're all right. They're my best friends. It's tough without them here."

And there was a human side of herself that she rarely was able to show anymore. Severus sighed.

"Very well," he said. "You will, of course, keep me updated should you hear from them."

Rebecca nodded.

"I will see what Dobby can do," Albus offered.

"Elf magic works differently," Rebecca said. "Maybe Dobby knows where Harry is but he's been afraid to approach me."

"Dobby has the utmost trust in you, Rebecca," Albus said reassuringly.

"At least that makes one person."

Severus glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She really did feel alone.

"I do need to get started on Professor Flitwick's essay," Rebecca said. "I'll see you again tomorrow night, Severus."

"Good night, Rebecca."

She left, leaving Albus watching Severus. The latter of the two sighed.

"Yes, Albus?" he said through his teeth.

"Perhaps if you show a little of _your_ human side, you will see Rebecca is more willing to give a bit of herself in return." There was that smile, and that twinkle in his eyes again.

"She will discover sooner or later that she does not need to keep things to herself," Severus said. "I believe she's still angry with me for last night; I did insult her friends."

"You do so many times in her presence," Albus said. "I think you like to try her patience."

"Just as she enjoys trying mine," Severus said, narrowing his eyes. "This is the end of our discussion, Albus. I have a school to run."

* * *

Rebecca's reputation was solidified, and it was only the ending of the first week of the term. Draco clung even closer to her, Crabbe and Goyle flanking them as they made their way through the corridors. They were quite a sight to behold.

The day went by quickly, but not nearly as fast as word of her new status. The Slytherins in her year, as well as the older ones, fought to sit close to her and Draco. It was a strange experience, having the Slytherins vying for her attention. And it was for all the wrong reasons.

Those who knew her from other Houses looked upon the Slytherin table as something of a spectacle. Rebecca had stopped looking their way by now, had trained herself not to. She couldn't even glance at them, not for her sake and theirs as well. Even Severus' life depended on her being able to convincingly steel her emotions and take on the role of a snooty member of pureblood society, a hopeful Death Eater.

As always, she went to the Headmaster's office once dinner was through. She did not wait for an invitation inside. The room was empty, except for the portraits.

"Good evening, Rebecca," said Albus' portrait.

"Evening, Albus."

"The school has been quite abuzz today," he continued.

She came to stand before him. "The Slytherins, you mean?"

"To a certain extent, yes."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

"As Headmaster, I was very connected to the castle," Albus explained. "However, now that I'm a portrait here, I'm a part of the castle. I know everything that is happening as it's happening. And, as I'm sure you know, the castle itself is somewhat sentient."

"It's unsurprising," Rebecca admitted. "Old objects tend to have minds of their own. The castle's the oldest thing that I can think of."

Albus nodded. "It is. It also seems aware of what's occurring."

"What do you mean?"

"It knows to prepare for war. It's been aware of the scheming we were doing all last term."

"Are you suggesting the castle is trying to help us?"

"Perhaps," Albus said with a shrug. "It has kept a few students out of the Carrows' hands. I imagine it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to imagine it would help should Tom decide to step foot here again."

Rebecca thought on this for a moment. What could the castle possibly do against Voldemort? Or, for that matter, what could it do to help anyone?

"You're pensive as usual, Rebecca," Albus said. "You were wondering if the castle would help you."

"Something along those lines," she replied, not in the least bit surprised he'd been able to tell what she'd been thinking. She was transparent to him.

"The castle understands your purpose here, Rebecca. It wants to help. But do not think too much on it."

Rebecca nodded, then glanced around the room. "Where is Severus?"

"He was called away suddenly," Albus said. "Summoned, it sounded like. He said nothing to me about it, which I found uncharacteristic of him."

"I'll wait here for him," Rebecca said, taking a seat in front of the Headmaster's desk, the closest one to Albus' portrait.

"Severus does not enjoy others seeing him when he's returned from Tom's Summons," Albus said, as if by way of warning.

"Well, he'll need to get used to it. We're in this Tom business together, and he'll realize that one way or another."

Albus admired the girl for her loyalty.

"Besides, I'm tired of the Slytherins tripping over themselves to get to me," Rebecca continued.

The old Headmaster smiled at her. "Despite your current low-standing in Tom's circle, you are much closer than many of them. They are attracted to power."

"Apparently their definitions and my own of 'power' do not meet at all."

"Very rarely is there a Slytherin such as yourself, Rebecca."

She paused a moment.

"What was Severus like when he was at Hogwarts?"

Albus wondered if he should answer that question. She saw his hesitancy, and explained herself.

"He's a tough person to figure out, not saying that I will ever be able to," she said. "But I feel that he knows more about me than I know about him."

Albus thought a moment longer before sighing. "Severus was a quiet boy when he first got here. As you know, his mother comes from a long, strong line of a pureblooded family. His father was a muggle who was not aware of his mother's magical abilities until Severus began showing his own when he was young. I'm afraid Tobias Snape was not a very kind man. He is whom I imagine Severus thinks of when he puts on his act."

"The scary Potions Master act," Rebecca offered.

"Precisely. And, of course, that is not to say that Severus is mean-spirited by nature. He is not nice, either."

"I think he enjoys being an enigma."

"You must understand that he uses this façade as a means of protecting himself," Albus said. "He was only close with his mother, with Lily, myself, and perhaps a few others. Many of them abandoned him, or so he feels."

He stopped speaking, giving Rebecca time to put things together. She understood fairly quickly. His mother was dead, she presumed. Lily had chosen James Potter over him. Dumbledore had forced Severus to kill him. Others had merely found him contemptible, evil, or wanted nothing to do with him. Despite Dumbledore's implicit trust in him, no one in the Order had ever really trusted Severus. That was why her trust in him was so confusing to him; perhaps that was why he pushed her away when it came to personal business. Everyone who had trusted him abandoned him.

She looked back up at Albus.

"You're a very quick young woman, Rebecca," the old Headmaster told her fondly. "I can practically see your brain working. Severus knows that the two of you are much more alike than he's comfortable with."

"It also doesn't help that I look like Lily," she said quietly.

Albus looked at her for a moment before responding. "Perhaps, but perhaps not. You are very different from Lily Evans, of that I can assure you, Rebecca. Even Severus recognizes that."

"I'm not sure he does," Rebecca said honestly. "Especially now with the knowledge that I'm Lily's second-cousin. It makes me wonder if he feels obligated to help me, if everything he's doing is with her image floating above me, reminding him of the stupid mistake he made all those years ago."

Albus wasn't certain how to respond. Just as he was about to open his mouth to say any number of comforting words he had at his disposal, Rebecca stood.

"Dobby," she called.

And the house elf appeared. He held himself in a much different manner when he entered the Headmaster's office now. He was much closer to the ground; his shoulders slumped forward, and his ears were only half-raised. When he saw Rebecca, he straightened and grinned at her.

"Dobby is glad to see Rebecca," the house elf said, taking a few steps closer to her.

"I'm glad to see you too, Dobby."

She smiled at him.

"Is there something Dobby can be getting Rebecca?"

"Some tea would be nice," Rebecca said. "And then I'd like to have a chat with you, if that's all right."

Dobby nodded emphatically. "Of course Dobby will speak with Rebecca! Dobby will be right back with Rebecca's tea."

He popped out of the room in that same mysterious way all house elves had. Albus watched Rebecca, but she merely moved a couple of chairs closer to an end table near the fireplace. She and Dobby could speak here, like civilized people. It might make the house elf uncomfortable, but Rebecca needed him to understand that he was a true friend of hers, especially when she was severely lacking in them at the moment.

Dobby returned quickly, carrying a tray full of the tea set.

"Over here, Dobby," Rebecca said.

He tottered to her, setting the tray on the table.

"Have a seat," she told him, motioning to the chair.

Dobby looked at the chair and glanced back at Rebecca. Rebecca gave him an encouraging nod, and that was all he needed before he climbed up and sat on it. Rebecca took her seat as well and made her tea. Dobby chose not to have any.

"What did Rebecca want to talk to Dobby about?" the house elf asked expectantly.

"I wanted to know if you've been able to locate Harry and the others."

Dobby's ears drooped as he frowned. "No, Dobby hasn't. Dobby thought he could, but it's proven more difficult than he originally thought."

"It's okay, Dobby," Rebecca said. "I'm sure he'll find some way to get into contact with us."

She took a sip of her tea and watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Dobby clearly had something he wanted to talk about himself, but she wouldn't bring up the subject. Finally, it seemed too much for his small body to contain.

"Dobby has heard some terrible things about Rebecca! Dobby knows none of it is true, not true at all!"

"What are they saying, Dobby?" Rebecca asked passively, her attention solely on him.

"The other house elves hear the students and professors talk," Dobby explained. "The professors worry for Rebecca. The Slytherins want to be close to her and Dobby's former master's son." His eyes widened at the thought of Draco, who Rebecca imagined hadn't been very kind to him. "The other Houses hate her. They say…"

He stopped himself.

"It's okay, Dobby," Rebecca said. "I won't be mad at you for telling me. I'm glad you're telling me."

Dobby looked confounded for only a moment longer before he spoke again. "They say that she's the mistress of the traitor."

He began shaking, looking as if he would punish himself as house elves were sometimes prone to when they said things about their masters they weren't supposed to.

Rebecca smiled easily at Dobby. She was certain whoever he'd heard this information from had used more colorful language than how Dobby put it. But it showed that he cared about her, saying it as he had.

"Dobby wants to know if it's true," Dobby said.

"What do you believe, Dobby?" Rebecca asked him kindly.

"Dobby believes that Rebecca would do anything to help her friend Harry Potter," Dobby said insistently. "Dobby thinks that Rebecca is a true Slytherin and is fooling everyone in the castle, just like Headmaster Dumbledore wanted her to do." Dobby's eyes glanced at Albus' portrait, who was listening into the conversation intently.

"I'm glad you still have faith in me, Dobby," Rebecca said. She nearly felt her voice give out from the emotion she was holding back.

"Dobby will never lose faith in Rebecca," the house elf said, sitting forward in the chair that dwarfed him.

"Thank you."

"Dobby should go before the traitor returns," he said, hopping down from the chair.

She wished she could tell the brave house elf everything, but even Dobby was susceptible to wizard magic, she feared.

"If Rebecca needs Dobby, all she has to do is call for him," he said, giving her a tiny smile.

"Thank you, Dobby, I'll be sure to do that."

He popped out of the room again. There was silence for a long moment as Rebecca tried to keep herself composed.

"Dobby is a good friend," Albus said.

"He is."

"I, too, think he would be a Gryffindor." The old Headmaster smiled fondly at her.

She offered him one back. There was more silence.

"Do you think Severus will ever learn to trust me?"

This sudden question surprised Albus.

"That is very difficult to know, Rebecca."

"I know."

What Albus had to say next was not going to be easy, but he was driven to help her understand the image that would last with him forever in his portrait. The last thing he had seen in his physical body had been hope, something he always believed in.

"You care for Severus."

Her eyes met his. "I care about him because he has done so much for me," she said. "I care for him as my mentor. So yes, I do care about him."

Albus knew this was the answer he would receive, but eventually the two of them would also know the truth of what he had seen.

"Do you believe he cares about you?"

"Perhaps in his own way, perhaps just because of my resemblance to Lily, perhaps he only feels obligation," Rebecca said with a shrug.

"During the course of your Legilimency studies with Severus, did you notice anything that might indicate one or the other of those possibilities?"

Before she answered, Rebecca paused. The first time she had been able to see into his mind, she'd seen Severus' memory of rescuing her. She still hadn't thought too much into it, but she began thinking on it now.

"Yes. He feels guilt. But I'm not sure why."

Albus thought of a way to respond to her, but the fireplace suddenly flickered to life. Green flames burst upward.

Rebecca stayed seated, but held her wand at the ready should she need to disappear quickly. Through the flames stumbled Severus, looking pale, ragged, and hurt. Rebecca immediately stowed her wand back into her pocket and waited for him to notice her. She felt an overwhelming need to go to him, to help him. But his comments about her friends from two nights ago as well as her own thoughts stopped her. He would not want her sympathy, though he would call it pity.

He grasped the wing-backed chair that was just before the fireplace. He took in a few deep breaths. Besides his breathing, the room was silent.

"Severus?"

Her voice startled him. He looked toward her, part of his face shielded by his black hair. He pushed it away so he could sneer at her properly.

"I am in no mood for your coddling."

"I didn't stay to coddle you, I stayed to make sure you were all right," Rebecca said, standing. "Why did Tom call you tonight?"

"To deliver my punishment, as promised," Severus replied through his teeth. He sat heavily in the chair he had been grasping onto, no longer wanting to stand.

"The Cruciatus?"

"It is his favored form of punishment."

"Is there anything you'd like me to get for you?"

"Some silence would be preferred," Severus growled. "Clearly I am in no state to act out a memory for tonight. Besides the fact, I would never show myself so weak to my _pet_."

He glared at her, a very distinct message for her to leave. Rebecca stood under his gaze, unwavering, for a long minute.

She turned back to the tea set on the end table. She grabbed the tea pot and poured some of its contents into a cup. She brought it to him and set it on the table next to his chair. She stood before him, in clear defiance of what he wanted from her.

There was a tense moment when Rebecca thought he was going to forcibly eject her from his office. However, he reached for the cup and took a sip from it.

"Thank you."

His words were stiff, but behind them was an invitation to stay. Rebecca relaxed and sat in the chair beside his own. There was still a couple of feet between them, so he wouldn't feel imposed upon, she thought.

As he sipped the tea, Severus could feel the warmth flooding back into his veins. After draining the cup of all its liquid, he set it back on the table, feeling slightly better. He knew he would soon show the after-effects of the curse, but for some reason it did not bother him. He'd had it cast upon him enough times before that he knew the stages by heart, and could retrieve the potions, should he need them, when he felt them coming on.

The tremors would begin within the next ten minutes. The numbness stage still had a firm grasp on him.

On the bright side, Rebecca had learned how to keep her mouth shut when she should. The silence was wonderful, but he knew he had to break it.

"The Dark Lord is looking forward to your talk tomorrow," Severus said.

"Goody."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Sarcasm does not sit well with him."

"I figured as much."

"Bellatrix wants her dagger back from you," Severus continued. "He plans on obtaining it from you tomorrow as part of your first test."

"It will not obey her since I won it from her," Rebecca said.

"That is of no consequence."

"Should I mention it to him? He might find it amusing when he gives it back to Bellatrix."

Severus considered this. "It could not hurt to mention your knowledge."

Rebecca nodded. "Did you see Lucius and Narcissa?"

"No. I imagine they are well enough, if not scared out of their wits."

"Where was Tom when he was gone for so long?" Rebecca asked.

"That is something only he knows. He is searching for something; that much I can gather from his actions."

Both were pensive for a few moments.

"You are prepared for tomorrow evening?"

"As prepared as I can be."

"The Dark Lord already finds you curious. Continue to peak his curiosity, and you move up the ranks quickly. And then our memory sessions will no longer be necessary."

Rebecca saw his hand twitch suddenly, violently. He attempted to hide it by placing it in his lap and made no other motion to show he had noticed it.

"I should go," she said, not wanting to impose upon him any longer. "Thank you for the information."

Severus nodded. "Make certain you are prompt after dinner tomorrow. The Dark Lord does not appreciate tardiness."

"I know. Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Rebecca," he said to the retreating girl's back.

* * *

_Meeting with Voldemort, September 6, 1997_

Rebecca culled her nervousness by the end of dinner and was now waiting for Severus in his office.

"You are prepared?" he asked her.

"You sound nervous."

"Answer the question."

"I'm as prepared as I'm going to be," Rebecca said with a sigh. "I don't need anything. Let's just get this over with."

"You have Bellatrix's dagger?"

Rebecca lifted the hem of her robes and showed the dagger securely fit in its holster about her ankle.

"Very well. Let us depart."

They made their way through the castle and out the Entrance Hall in silence. No students dared to stop the Headmaster and Head Girl. Draco was the only one who knew of where she was going, and that was because his parents had informed him through their secret code. He'd sworn he wouldn't tell anyone, but merely asked what time he should suspect her back in their dormitory. She'd told him she didn't know.

They reached the Apparation point and she clutched onto Severus' robes as he usually made her do. She took in a deep breath just before they Apparated and reappeared outside the gates of Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa Malfoy awaited them at the gates. She gave her surrogate daughter a kiss on the cheek and did the same to Severus before turning to lead them into the castle.

"Our Lord has been expecting your visit all day, Rebecca," Narcissa told the girl by way of warning. "He has been eager to see you."

"That is good to hear," Rebecca replied, showing that she understood what Narcissa was trying to impart to her.

"Rebecca is sure to please our Lord," Severus commented. "Tell me, will he meet her in the sitting room with the piano?"

"Yes," Narcissa said, looking surprised that he knew. "That is where he requested to meet Rebecca." She looked to the girl. "He heard about your budding talent at piano from Severus, I suppose, dear."

Rebecca inclined her head and looked to Severus, whose hand was coming toward her. Soon, it rested possessively on the small of her back. As they entered the Malfoy's home, Narcissa went away to tell their Lord of the expected guests. As soon as she was out of range, Severus pulled Rebecca toward him suddenly.

"Do not fail me, _pet_," he whispered harshly.

In their close proximity, Rebecca felt him place something into her hands. As he let her go, she looked down to see sheets of music.

"Impress him with your skills," Severus said evenly. "Those are his favored songs and are easy enough for you to play, despite your lack of practice."

"Thank you," Rebecca said quietly, tucking them inside of her robes.

Narcissa returned.

"Our Lord will see you now, Rebecca," she said. "Severus, you may come with me to visit with Lucius. He'll be glad to see you."

Though the woman was reserved in her manner, Rebecca could see the underlying fear in her eyes.

"Thank you, Narcissa," Rebecca said as she entered through the door the Malfoy matriarch had just come through.

She heard Severus and Narcissa leave, their footsteps fading down the hallway. Rebecca steeled the last of her nerves and walked into the room. Across it, there sat Voldemort, black robes surrounding him. He toyed with his wand. When he noticed her, a slow smile came to his face.

"Rebecca," he said.

"My Lord."

She bowed.

"Come here so that we may speak."

He beckoned her to him with a bony, white finger. She walked toward him, showing no fear. He looked her over, as if appraising her, as she approached.

"You seem well."

"Headmaster Snape treats me very well, my Lord," Rebecca said.

Voldemort smirked. "I'm sure he does."

Rebecca feigned nervousness, fidgeting slightly. It helped that she was already sweating a bit at her brow from her increased heart rate from entering the room, though she appeared calm on the outside.

He held out his hand, beckoning her closer. As soon as she was within his reach, he grasped her head and brought her eyes down to meet his own so he could see things from her perspective just as Severus had shown him the previous evening.

She showed the appropriate amount of fear and confusion, but also a certain amount of pride when he saw her looking through old tomes, researching. Severus had told him all about that. _Complained_ was more the word he would use to describe the man's speech. Voldemort saw it as promising and hopeful. Now, what he saw merely confirmed his assumptions.

Voldemort chuckled as he let her go, releasing her roughly from his Legilimency. "Have a seat at the piano," he ordered.

Rebecca managed to catch herself and sit down at the bench before the piano.

"Severus has told me you've become quite talented since your stay here," Voldemort continued. "Do you have the music I gave to him for you?"

"Yes, my Lord," Rebecca said easily, taking the sheets from her robes to show him.

She turned toward the piano and set the sheets in their proper place, where they would be held. The position came back to her immediately as she sat before the grand instrument. She raised her hands over the keys and looked up to the music. It was simple enough. Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture for the piano. The choice didn't surprise her. To Rebecca, the song had always sounded like a victory, something Voldemort was constantly seeking.

"Skip to the finale," he ordered.

Rebecca did so. This was the most difficult part of the song. Not for how complex it was, but for how fast it needed to be played. She began to play, noticing Voldemort said nothing as she did so. The music flooded the room. Despite her mistakes, he remained silent. This did not worry her; not yet. She would wait. She had enough patience. And she needed to concentrate.

Once she was finished, Voldemort gave an appreciative clap. It was quiet and quick, but it was something.

"Most impressive, Rebecca," he said. "How long have you been out of practice?"

"Since returning to Hogwarts, my Lord. I also have not played this particular song since the beginning of the summer."

"You will learn to play it all and play it well."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Severus tells me you played the next song on your last day here," Voldemort continued. "Play it for me now."

"Yes, my Lord," Rebecca said as she turned to the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

She felt relief at its familiarity and sunk into the music. This time, Voldemort was not quiet.

"I have learned many things about you, Rebecca."

She said nothing, concentrating on the music.

Voldemort cracked a smirk. "You are much better than most followers. You remain silent and wait for me to speak. That is something to be valued: a woman who knows how to hold her tongue."

"Of course, my Lord," Rebecca said amiably, though she seethed on the inside.

"I know that you took a valuable Black family heirloom from Bellatrix in your fifth year," Voldemort said. "Do you have that item with you now?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Then I shall retrieve it momentarily."

"Certainly, my Lord," Rebecca said, missing a note. She paused to catch her place before continuing. "If I may ask a question, my Lord?"

"I am usually the one who asks questions, not answers them," he replied a bit harshly.

"I am aware, my Lord, and I apologize, but I feel that it is important."

"Then ask."

"Do you plan on returning the dagger to Bellatrix?"

"That was my intention."

"My Lord, old objects, as I'm sure you well know, tend to develop minds of their own," Rebecca said, careful to watch the piano keys in front of her. "Some of them are like wands: once they are won, they will not willingly go back to their old owner unless they are won in return."

"Do you imply that the Black dagger is as such?"

"I do not imply, my Lord, I know."

Voldemort smiled at the girl before him. Her knowledge of magical objects, her willingness to learn about the Dark Arts, it was welcome. He had waited for someone of her caliber for quite some time now. Though many of his Death Eaters came close to what he sought, she was like Harry Potter. He had marked the boy as his equal that fateful night so many years ago. He had not understood why he had chosen Potter over the Longbottom boy, but after having thought on it for many years, he was certain now he understood.

Potter was like him in many ways: though he was pureblooded technically, his mother was stained by her Mudblood heritage. He was thus proving to be a formidable opponent despite what should be his inferior birth.

Voldemort was a half-blood: the product of a woman who was all but a squib (even though she descended from a long, pureblooded line all the way back to Salazar Slytherin himself) and a Mudblood man. Even though his own heritage should reflect upon his magical ability, he was the most powerful Dark wizard of this century.

However, there were very few alive who knew of his past. He was certain no one was left living who knew of his heritage. He had seen to that.

Now, before him was this Mudblood girl. She should have been inferior, but time and again she proved her strength and prowess over magic of even the most pureblooded of young wizards and witches. He could mold her into what he desired. Whereas Harry Potter was steadfast in his lion-hearted bravery and beliefs, this girl, this Mudblood, was a true Slytherin. She understood the precarious balance of power and wanted to be on the winning side. The fact that she was willing to sacrifice everything to get there was admirable, particularly in a Mudblood, who are supposed to have no concept of such things.

Yet here she was, waiting for his next words. She would do perfectly for his plans as long as she continued to please him. If not, he was certain there would be others like her to make an example of.

"What do you know of your witch grandmother."

This caused Rebecca pause as she attempted to recall to mind the image of the woman she had not seen since she was four.

"Very little," she finally replied. "Only that she looks in my memories like the traitor Sirius Black's mother."

"The Black features are very prominent, even in blood that has been tainted," Voldemort said.

Rebecca nodded, continuing with the music.

"What is it that you think I expect of you?"

"To be loyal to you, my Lord," Rebecca replied.

"Do you feel that you have been thus far?"

"Very much so, my Lord."

"Severus tells me he's been displeased with you as of late. I know what he thinks, but explain what you have been up to."

"I've been researching for my Lord," Rebecca said.

"Stop playing."

Rebecca's fingers held down the keys. The music from the piano faded slowly. She waited.

"Turn to face me."

She did so and found that his snake-like, pale face was much closer than she had imagined it to be while she had been playing.

"'Explain,' I said," he repeated slowly.

"I was thinking only of my Lord," Rebecca said, keeping her voice even despite her quick speech. "I wished to create a potion that could transfigure a loyal member of your Death Eaters, perhaps even my Lord himself should he so choose, into the animal a Death Eater's Animagus form would normally have taken."

Voldemort paused.

"I was not aware your ambitions were so great," he said quietly. "Elaborate."

"Depending upon the witch or wizard's personality, an Animagus is formed, as you well know, my Lord," Rebecca continued. "However, not all wizards or witches have the same capabilities. My strengths lie in Potions and Transfiguration. So, whereas I might be able to become an Animagi relatively easily, some members of your Inner Circle may not have such opportunities."

"Why would I want Animagi in my midst?"

"I realize my Lord's ambitions are much greater than my own, and I believe creating a potion that would mimic an Animagus form would be quite useful to him. My Lord could penetrate his enemies' defenses much quicker and easier, as Animagi look exactly like a true animal. Depending upon the Animagi form, they could also be used for scare tactics, for Ministries that are less willing to fall to my Lord's reign willingly."

"You've thought this through quite well."

Rebecca bowed her head. "Thank you, my Lord."

"You believe that you can create this potion?"

"Much like my knowledge of the Black dagger, my knowledge of this potion is nearly complete," Rebecca said with a smile. "Do I have my Lord's permission to begin?"

Voldemort considered the girl before him. She was showing how high she placed him in her regard, how he must have constantly been on her mind in order for her to have come up with something this elaborate in a short amount of time. And she was impertinent with her seeking of permission. It was amusing.

"Before I answer, I must ask a question of you," Voldemort said, leaning forward. "You speak of your own ambitions. What are they?"

"If it would please my Lord, I would do anything to take the Dark Mark, in order to show my loyalty to all," Rebecca said, trying to fill her voice with admiration. "My only wish is to serve my Lord to the best of my abilities. I will push myself past the breaking point. I will show myself to be the most loyal of all your followers."

She stared deeply into his red, snake-like eyes. Rebecca had learned to show that she feared what he could do to her, but that she was not afraid of him. She used her body language. Her back was straight and her shoulders forward. However, she held herself always a little lower than he, just to acknowledge his power. She knew if she showed too much fear, he would no longer find her interesting, just as Severus had said. She had to keep herself amusing to him, useful in whatever way he needed her to be.

But now she was waiting, hardly breathing, trying to put hopefulness and the willingness to please into her features.

"Your dreams are big for a Mudblood."

Rebecca looked down. "I understand my blood is inferior, but I feel that my Lord must have recognized something of use in me after his discovery of my blood ties to the Blacks. It is not my place, but I ask that my Lord grant me a chance to prove my loyalty to him."

It was bold and brazen, much like her ways had been when they'd first met in her fifth year, when she'd been on the other side. He liked it. It was so much different from his other Death Eaters. Before him, she showed no fear. She asked him questions, challenged his knowledge in her subtle ways, and made him realize her possible worth.

"How will I know that you are loyal to only me?" Voldemort asked quietly.

"Because I am willing to kill the only friends I ever had up until this point in my life in order to bring you Harry Potter, my Lord," Rebecca said, glancing up at him. "I would even go so far as to become an Animagi for my Lord so he could use me as he wished."

"And what about your loyalty to Severus?" asked Voldemort, a smirk slowly creeping across his features. "That is the reason you knew to join me in the first place, was it not?"

Rebecca had forgotten about that. She lowered her head a little more. "Yes, my Lord, it was."

"Is it no longer so now?"

"My loyalty is only to you, my Lord, as I believe my memories have proved. This whole week, I have devoted myself to a cause I wasn't sure you would even approve. If you do now, I will put my whole being into pleasing you and showing you that I'm not lying."

There was a long moment of silence between the two of them before Voldemort spoke again.

"Successfully create that potion for me, Rebecca, and you will gain admittance into my Inner Circle of followers," he said. "That will prove your worth and loyalty. In the meantime, you will visit me here at Malfoy Manor weekly. In those visits, you will be shown what it means to be a true Death Eater."

"Thank you, my Lord," Rebecca said, beaming as she knelt.

Voldemort touched her chin with his hand, forcing her to look up. "I will, however, still need the dagger from you."

"Certainly, my Lord."

Rebecca took it from her holster and presented the hilt to him.

Voldemort took it and examined it as Rebecca stood from the bench before the piano. He looked to her, then.

"Send in Severus," he said. "I must speak with him about your new duties and caution him on your old ones."

Rebecca bowed her head and left the room to find him.

She discovered Lucius, Narcissa, and Severus in the dining area, speaking quietly to one another. They all turned at the sound of her footsteps.

"Our Lord requests your presence, sir," Rebecca said, looking to Severus.

He stood and left the room quickly, not coming close to her as he passed. Narcissa stood and closed the gap between her and Rebecca, hugging the girl to her chest.

"We've been worried," she whispered.

"So Draco has told me," Rebecca replied quietly.

Narcissa ushered the girl to a chair between her and Lucius. They bade her to tell everything that she had been up to at school, knowing that they could no longer speak candidly even in their own home. In the middle of their conversation, a cackle erupted from the doorway behind them.

Rebecca didn't need to turn around to know it was Bellatrix. She clenched her hands into fists by her sides, but showed no other emotions otherwise. She heard the woman approach.

"The ickle Mudblood's returned," she crooned.

Rebecca could feel the woman behind her chair.

"Our Lord has restored what you stole from me," Bellatrix continued.

Rebecca felt the blade of the dagger against her cheek.

"Rightfully won," Rebecca said quietly.

The blade stopped, pressing into her skin slightly. "How _dare_ you talk to me like that?"

"Bella," Narcissa warned, standing to try and shield Rebecca from her sister. "She's just a girl."

Rebecca could see from her peripherals that Bellatrix was not happy about being blocked. She felt a hand on her shoulder and saw that it was Lucius pulling her toward him. She stood up, knowing that her low place would not allow her to fight someone of Bellatrix's standing without repercussion to herself, Severus, and possibly her surrogate family. As Lucius stepped forward to protect her from Bellatrix, the witch pointed her wand at him. Narcissa gasped.

"Move aside, Lucius," Bellatrix hissed.

Instead of doing what she ordered, Lucius stayed put. Rebecca felt moved that the Malfoy family ties were so strong. She moved out from behind him, fast enough that Lucius could not stop her. She stood before Bellatrix and locked eyes with the crazy Death Eater.

Bellatrix stepped forward and placed the tip of her wand against Rebecca's neck.

"You will apologize for your insubordination."

Her voice was low, just above a whisper. It dared Rebecca to try this woman's patience, to deny her what she sought.

"I am but a lowly pet," Rebecca replied calmly. "Surely what I say could not harm the powerful Bellatrix Lestrange."

"You mock me."

The wand dug into her neck. Rebecca knew it would bruise if left there any longer, but she did not care. She cringed slightly, but made no other move to back down. If Tom saw this from any of the witnesses here, it would be sure to solidify her image in his mind: one of pure defiance to all others' wills. It would give him the feeling that only he could control her. It would comfort him.

Bellatrix suddenly reached forward and snatched up Rebecca's hair, near the roots. Rebecca stopped the cry of pain before it could leave her lips, clenching her jaw. Bellatrix pulled the girl closer to her face as Narcissa and Lucius looked on, helpless to their relative's actions. Bellatrix was even closer to the Dark Lord than they.

Rebecca did not struggle, knowing it would only cause her more pain if she did. She was close enough to Bellatrix to see the pores in her pale skin.

"You think you're smarter than us," Bellatrix said through her teeth. "You think you can win our Lord's favor. You're nothing but a Mudblood who must learn her place. Even as a pet you are worthless. I heard Snape complain about you. Not doing your job?"

Rebecca did not move or speak. Bellatrix pulled her hair tighter and pressed her wand against Rebecca's sternum.

"Remember this?" Bellatrix asked. "The scars will always prove your inferiority, to show you of your past, when you were on the wrong side. See what following Dumbledore caused you?"

Rebecca looked past the woman, no longer wanting to listen. She saw Severus walk into the doorway. He paused only for a split second before drawing his wand and silently approaching.

"Your station in life has been set," Bellatrix continued. "Try to get out of it, and the pain you felt from those scars will be child's play compared to what I'll do to you then."

"Bellatrix, you know I don't like others touching my things."

Severus' voice was smooth and calm, even though his wand was pressed so hard into the woman's back Rebecca could see her flinch from it.

"Your Mudblood was mocking me. I was punishing her."

"Again, an activity I enjoy as her master," Severus said.

He sounded rather bored, but Rebecca could see the underlying threat that his stance put into his words. Bellatrix let go of Rebecca's hair. The girl stepped away from her as Bellatrix turned to face Severus.

Narcissa took the girl gently away from the two high-ranking Death Eaters, who only stared at one another for many long, silent moments until Bellatrix left the room in a rush. Her footsteps pounded against the old stone, echoing down the corridor.

Severus turned his eyes to Rebecca, as if assessing her for damage.

"Our Lord has dismissed us," he said. "I believe we must part now lest Bellatrix decide to return."

He held out his hand. Rebecca looked quickly behind her at Narcissa and Lucius to give them a nod of departure before turning back to Severus. She held out her slightly shaking hand and placed it in his. His fingers closed around her hand, encompassing even her wrist in his much larger grasp.

"Narcissa, Lucius," he said, bowing his head slightly.

The Malfoys stood by as Severus swept Rebecca from the room and out of the manor. He did not lose his stance even when they Apparated away and were back on Hogwarts grounds. Even though there were no students outside (it was still too cold to go about the grounds on the weekends), his face was still unreadable.

Only once they were in his office did his shoulders become even slightly less rigid. He took her chin in his hand and moved it up, looking upon the wand-tip-shaped bruise that had already formed on her neck.

"I figured she would have done something rash, but not in front of Lucius and Narcissa," he said, letting go of her chin. "You are fine otherwise?"

Rebecca nodded. "It was nothing I couldn't handle."

Severus did not respond to that, even though she was clearly wrong.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue… again," Rebecca said.

He merely nodded.

"What did Tom say to you?"

"He informed me of your ambitions, which I played dumb at before," Severus said quickly. "He likes the image you portray to him, that much I can tell you."

Rebecca didn't like how he was standing. He looked… uncomfortable. That was not a word she associated with him.

"There's something else," she said.

Why is she getting better at reading my body language? Severus thought harshly.

He scowled at her.

"Severus, if it's something serious, I have the right to know, especially if it affects my place in Tom's circle."

He looked away from her, knowing that he had to tell her. There was no easy way to impart this information. Suddenly, he turned about to face her.

"I have had enough for one night," he said, stepping toward her at a frighteningly quick pace. Rebecca took multiple steps backward towards the door. "Get back to your dormitory. We will meet again Monday evening, as scheduled," he added, growling.

He all but pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face. Rebecca took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling her whole body tremor with her pent-up fright. Now, anger replaced fear.

What was wrong with him? They were supposed to be in this together. _No more secrets_, he had told her. That sounded like bullshit to her right about now.

She stalked down the stairs, going back to her dorm, where she would speak to Draco as if nothing had happened. He needed to be left out of things as much as possible for his own safety.

* * *

_The Talk, September 8, 1997_

Severus was silent as Rebecca entered the Headmaster's office Monday evening. He did not even acknowledge her presence for many long minutes. She stood uneasily near the fireplace, unsure of what to do. They had not spoken all weekend. Clearly, he didn't want to now. But she needed to know what Tom had said to him Saturday night.

"Severus?" she asked cautiously. "Are we going to talk about Saturday?"

"Sit."

Rebecca did so. Only a few moments went by before he came to stand behind the chair across from her. It seemed he didn't want to sit, as he had ordered her to do.

Severus considered her now, as well as what he had to tell her. He knew he should have sat her down that night and told her everything then. However, he hadn't been able to figure out how to say it. He'd thought about it all weekend, but he still felt his presentation was lacking. The best method was just to come out and say it.

"The Dark Lord, as you understand, was pleased with you Saturday," he said. "So pleased, that he informed me of the new direction he wishes to take his plans for you."

He stopped again.

"And those are?" Rebecca asked.

"He would have us betrothed once you have been admitted into the Inner Circle and received your Mark."

Rebecca was stunned into silence. She understood why he had not want to speak with her that night.

"I see," she murmured.

There were certainly worse prospects. It's not like Tom was telling her she had to marry Draco. Ugh, they were _related_. She stopped thinking about that.

Severus appraised how she was taking the news. She seemed accepting, but she was nearly as good at him now at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. And there was more that she needed to know.

"He fully expects you to be able to achieve what you've set for yourself," he continued. "The Dark Mark ceremony is not a pleasant one."

"I can imagine," Rebecca said. "Severus, what _is_ it that you have to tell me? Just come out with it. You're making me nervous with this circular talk."

"The ceremony generally involves a sexual act between the inductee and his or her presenter into the Inner Circle."

Rebecca felt her eyes widen at that statement. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Naturally, I will be your presenter. The Dark Lord is aware that I possess a certain difficulty performing in front of others, so the act will not necessarily need to be sexual."

Relief washed over her, but she had little time to feel comforted before he continued speaking.

"That being said, once we are betrothed to one another, the Dark Lord will expect certain changes to our relationship," Severus said. "He expects that you will be more willing to bend to my will when you are my equal in status within the Death Eaters."

She looked at him expectantly. What in Merlin's name was he talking about?

"He will want us to be _fucking_ regularly, Rebecca," Severus said, greatly annoyed that the girl could be so daft.

It was a rare time when her mentor cursed, and at once she was taken aback by the way he had used the word and its context. The meaning was certainly not lost on her at all.

"But… we could just continue with the memories…" she managed to stammer out.

He came from around the chair, his black eyes never leaving hers. Suddenly, she felt very afraid, even though she knew he was not angry at her.

"What was the question I asked of you when we first began creating memories last week, Rebecca?"

"If I was experienced," Rebecca murmured.

"And your reply?"

"That I was not."

"Created memories are based in what?"

"Fact."

It was just like she was back in her lessons when she was first becoming a spy. She felt belittled and stupid. Rebecca would not look up at him any longer.

"The fact is what you are missing, Rebecca," Severus said, not leaving her personal space. He would continue to stare into her face whether or not she would look up at him. He was too angry to move away. "One cannot create a memory without some basis in fact, and I cannot create a memory of us doing that particular activity when you have not had the experience in the first place. And I am certainly not going to be the one to give you that experience. It is completely inappropriate."

She looked up at him finally, looking distinctly like she had just heard the worst news in the world.

"You're going to tell me that I need to find someone to have sex with so that we can correctly create the memories necessary to fool Tom," she said, her voice sounding weak.

"That is exactly what I am telling you to do," Severus said, straightening now that she seemed to be understanding the conversation a little better. "I can arrange for you to be able to leave the grounds without your being missed by anyone should no one at Hogwarts be to your liking. But at least you will have a choice in the matter."

"This is not the choice I was planning on," she whispered. "Is there no other way-?"

"One cannot fake a memory one has no experience of at all," Severus said quickly, stopping her immediately. "You must have sex with someone. I do not care whom."

Perhaps he was being harsh, but this was the reality of the situation. She would have to deal with it.

"I was hoping to give myself to someone that I cared about," she said, bitterness evident in her every word.

Severus was about to reprimand her for being so whiney about the whole thing, but it was his turn to stop when he saw the look on her face. This was something she had been considering herself, had probably wondered about on any number of occasions before she finally reached her decision. And now all of that was going to be dashed.

He sighed. "If you do not do this, there is a great possibility that we will be discovered," he said, his voice level, though he still spoke with his professorially tone.

"I know," she said. "I will not expose us. It could get us both killed."

"Who do you choose?" Severus asked. "All you have to do is say his name and I will give you the opportunity."

He was standing directly in front of her, expecting an answer from her now. Names of all the boys she knew flew through her mind, but almost everyone in the school hated her now. The others who did not hate her were all Slytherins, and the majority of them she would never come near with a ten foot pole, let alone with her naked body.

"Perhaps Draco might be your best choice at the moment," Severus said, turning about and muttering to himself as he began to pace.

"I'm related to Draco now," she said, disgusted at the mere thought.

"It is barely a drop of blood relation by now," Severus said with a wave of his hand as he looked to her. "That should not bother you."

"Yeah. Just because the purebloods think it's a good idea to marry and produce children with their cousins doesn't mean I don't find the idea appalling."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Then who did you have in mind?" he asked. "I suggested Draco because he has some stake in this as well. It would be easy to keep him silent about this. It would be easy to take his memory from him and replace myself in your memories with Draco."

Rebecca was desperately searching for a name, any name, other than Draco. But every other name he thought of was repulsive for any number of reasons. Finally, a thought came to her.

"Marcus Flint," she said quickly, looking up to Severus. "He'll do it."

Severus stared at the girl as if she'd grown a second head. "You wouldn't even let the boy kiss you last year, Rebecca. How is it that he is any better?"

"He's dim," Rebecca said. "I could get him to do anything I told him to do. I could tell him what is at stake, direct his action exactly as I wanted them, stage the entire thing as I want. I could _Obliviate _his memory afterward. There would be no danger to anyone."

Severus paused. He felt anger rising within him. "You mean to tell me that you are going to blow your cover in the off chance that the dim-witted Quidditch player will still fuck you how you tell him to?"

Rebecca stared resolutely back at him. "Yes, I believe Marcus Flint will _fuck_ me no matter what I tell him."

Severus sneered at her. He was not accustomed to women cursing in general, and he was not happy at the prospect of Rebecca challenging his authority on this matter.

"You will experience no pleasure when you are with him," Severus began, about to make another point.

"As if I'm supposed to," Rebecca said, scoffing at him. "I thought you told me Tom enjoyed watching women get raped? What the hell did you think the memory was going to be? Sunshine and butterflies?"

Severus stared at her. She gave him no time to interrupt her.

"You said this was my choice. I am not going to sleep with Draco. Everyone at this school either hates me or will be difficult to manipulate as well as being morally or physically repulsive. Marcus Flint is my best choice. He's already in the palm of my hand as we speak."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "You will not tell him of your position as a spy," he said, carefully emphasizing each word. "You will do what needs to be done, and I will aid you in recreating the memory to the Dark Lord's liking."

"When do I need to have this done by?" Rebecca asked, her words harsh.

"Owl Flint and tell him you wish to meet him for an evening at the inn in Hogsmeade one night on the weekend," he said. "Tell him that it needs to be as soon as he can get away. I don't care what you have to say in order to get him to agree."

"Fine." Rebecca stood. "I assume I'm dismissed?"

"For tonight," Severus said. "Hopefully he will have a response for you within the next day or so. We will plan further once he responds."

As he spoke, he watched as Rebecca crossed the room toward the door.

"Good night," she said, slamming the door behind her.

Severus gave a heavy sigh.

* * *

_Rebecca's First Test, September 14, 1997_

Rebecca and Severus were still a bit strained with one another during their private conversations ever since that Monday night. It was now Saturday night, and Severus was escorting Rebecca to a meeting at Malfoy Manor with the Dark Lord.

When they entered the dining hall, the Malfoys were already seated. Bellatrix was there as well. Peter Pettigrew was seated near the end of the table. There were seats left open near Narcissa and Lucius for Severus and Rebecca, which they took. Rebecca was able to see that the people across the table from them were Antonin Dolohov, one of Tom's first Death Eaters, and Marcus Yaxley. There were two other open seats, one presumably for Tom himself.

It was quiet for a long time, with no one else acknowledging anyone else except for a glance every so often. Severus kept a possessive hand on her shoulder.

Finally, Tom entered the dining hall, followed by heavier sounding footsteps. Fenrir Greyback stepped out from the shadows behind his Lord, carrying a very thin woman who wore no more than rags. Just before they reached the table, Tom waved his hand out to the side.

Greyback dropped the body onto the floor. The woman gave a muffled grunt as she hit the stone floor.

"Peter, take care of our guest while we conduct business," Voldemort said to the rat. "She will be dealt with shortly."

Rebecca eyed Greyback cautiously as he took his seat across the table from her. For someone who wasn't in the Inner Circle, and probably wouldn't be at any point, he was at a lot of meetings. He was here probably because he ran the new group known as the Snatchers, who caught the muggleborns and others whose blood status was in question and brought them to the Ministry for sentencing.

But her gaze was pulled to the commotion just before the table. Pettigrew levitated the woman who had been kept prisoner here and floated her above the table. No one else took notice of her except Rebecca. She nearly gasped at the realization of who the woman was. A hand tightened on her shoulder. Rebecca glanced over to Severus, who stared directly forward, watching the Dark Lord carefully.

Rebecca took the hint and looked no longer at Charity Burbage, former Muggle Studies professor. She had disappeared quite a few weeks ago. Now Rebecca knew where she had been this entire time.

Something touched her feet, and Rebecca jerked them back. A hissing sound came from underneath the table, and she was aware now that Nagini was also joining them at this meeting. She slithered over to where Tom sat, curling up beside him on the floor. Voldemort stroked her head absently.

Once Peter sat back down, the meeting began. It was mainly the other Death Eaters relating information from the Ministry to Tom, or Greyback talking about those who had been caught and sentenced recently. Rebecca was uncertain how long it took, but she did her best to look attentive the entire time. Finally, Tom looked to her.

"We're here tonight, also, because all of you are to witness a spectacular event," he said, standing. "Rebecca Felan has great ambition. She wishes to join my Inner Circle, to be sister to those of you who bear my esteemed Mark."

"My Lord!" Bellatrix cried, gasping.

Tom held up a hand. "She must first prove herself, tonight being her first test of many. She has a final project of sorts to complete for me. Tonight will be to make certain she has what it takes to be one of my own."

He motioned to Rebecca now. Severus removed his hand from her shoulder so that she could stand. Rebecca circled the table until she was before the Dark Lord. He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to the woman who had been levitated over the table for the duration of the meeting.

"Rebecca, do you know who that is?" Tom asked.

"That's Charity Burbage," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm and even. "She was the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts."

"That is correct," Voldemort said, turning to the other Death Eaters at the table.

Rebecca kept her gaze on her professor, trying to make certain that her look was neutral. The professor faced the ceiling, so it did not much matter now.

"Charity Burbage is of the opinion that… muggles are not so different from us," Voldemort said, beginning to pace before his followers. They laughed. "She believes that we should make them our friends, not our servants, as we are not the superior beings for possessing magic."

The table erupted into jeers. Rebecca looked away from Professor Burbage to glance at Severus, whose expression was as blank as ever. However, his eyes never left the witch floating near the ceiling.

"Wizards, she says, must accept these _thieves_ of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the pure-bloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance... She would have us all mate with Muggles..."

There was quite a bit of hissing directed the professor's way.

"And that is why I could no longer allow her to teach at our school," Voldemort finished. "I have kept her here in the Malfoy's dungeons, awaiting a proper time to make her understand the error of her ways."

He turned back to Rebecca, who was prepared for him. She bowed her head as he approached her.

"Take your wand in your hand, Rebecca," Voldemort said, holding his own in his hand. He moved Charity Burbage so that she now faced the table, floating only a few feet above it now.

Rebecca did as she was told, putting most of her energy into keeping her hand steady. She could not look at her professor. She heard the other witch begin to whimper quietly.

"You will curse her 'till she repents of her ways and agrees to join us in our endeavors," Voldemort told Rebecca. "If she does not, it is your responsibility to dispose of her. If you are unable to do this, your entrance into my Inner Circle will be severely rethought." He paused. "Do you understand, Rebecca?"

"Yes, my Lord," she said, bowing her head once more.

Severus remained firmly seated in his chair. But his eyes flicked between Charity Burbage, his long-time colleague, and Rebecca, his protégé, who was about to perform her first killing. It would be a mercy killing, but a killing nonetheless. Charity would never submit to the Dark Lord's rule.

Severus wasn't sure Rebecca would be able to even cast a Cruciatus Curse, let alone a Killing Curse. Both curses required the intent, the will to cause harm and death. He watched Rebecca set her jaw firmly as the Dark Lord walked back to his seat to enjoy the festivities. The Dark Lord gave Severus a look that told him to remain where he was.

Rebecca turned her attention to her professor. She licked her dry lips, feeling the anxiety begin to come over her. She pushed it aside somehow, though all she wanted to do was run. Raising her wand arm, she brought Professor Burbage down to the floor, where she sat up, staring at the girl with confusion.

"M-miss Felan?" she asked. "Rebecca Felan?"

Rebecca did not lower her wand. "Charity Burbage, you are being placed on trial here and now by the Dark Lord himself and members of his Death Eaters," she said evenly, her voice commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

"Rebecca, I don't understand," Professor Burbage said, trying to stand.

Rebecca took a step toward her. "Your crimes are being a muggle and Mudblood lover, empathizer, and supporter," she continued, seemingly unfazed. "You are also charged with conspiring against our Lord. However, despite even your heinous crimes, our Lord has offered you a chance of reprieve. Denounce your loyalties to Albus Dumbledore and his dead ways and join the Dark Lord."

"Rebecca," Professor Burbage said, holding out a hand to the girl. "You were always my best student. You're muggleborn yourself."

"Silence!" Rebecca barked at the woman, pushing back the tears that formed in her eyes. "Our Lord has offered you a very kind offer. I suggest that you take our Lord up on it."

"I will never follow the Dark Lord," Professor Burbage said. "And I don't think that you do, either, Rebecca."

"_Crucio_," Rebecca said without hesitation.

She had to call upon her memory of Tom killing Alastor earlier that summer. Rebecca felt her need for vengeance, her rage, build up within her just in time to release the curse upon her professor.

Charity Burbage cried out as the jet of light hit her square in the chest. She crumpled to the ground and shook for a few moments before Rebecca stopped the curse. Professor Burbage panted on the ground, but attempted to get back up almost immediately.

"You have two more chances to accept the Dark Lord's offer before I am to dispose of you," Rebecca said. "I advise you once more to take the offer. The Dark Lord is very good to his obedient followers."

Charity's eyes swept those at the table behind Rebecca as she caught her breath. She saw Severus watching the scene, his eyes wide.

"Severus," she said quietly. She stood on shaking legs. "Severus, we were friends."

Rebecca kept her eyes on Professor Burbage.

Severus gave the woman a blank look.

"Severus, please."

"_Crucio_," Rebecca said once more.

Professor Burbage fell a second time to the ground and convulsed with the power of the curse. Rebecca allowed this curse to continue for much longer than the first. When she stopped it this time, the professor did not return to standing.

"You have one last chance," Rebecca said loudly. "Accept the Dark Lord's offer an amnesty or die for your false convictions."

Charity looked up to Rebecca, her entire body shaking from the effort of doing so. She glanced between Rebecca and Severus. Rebecca softened her look for only a moment. Her wand faltered for a split second. She caught her slip and immediately rectified the situation. Professor Burbage gave her a pitying looking.

"Rebecca, please," she said, her voice wavering.

Rebecca's back was to the entire table full of Death Eaters. She shut her eyes tightly, ridding them of the tears. When she re-opened them, she caught the gaze of Professor Burbage, whom she'd had many long talks of muggle devices and customs on many occasions after class.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed.

Professor Burbage nodded.

"Charity Burbage," Rebecca said, "you have not accepted the Dark Lord's kind offer of reprieve. For your crimes, you are hereby sentenced to death."

Rebecca pointed her wand directly at her professor's face. "_Avada Kedavra_."

The green light shot from her wand with a force that nearly made her take a step back. Rebecca forced herself to watch as the green light struck the Muggle Studies professor in the face, causing the woman's face to go blank. Her body slumped to the stone floor.

"Nagini," the Dark Lord's voice rang out from behind Rebecca, "dinner."

He sounded almost… happy.

Rebecca lowered her wand as the giant snake slithered past her. She turned to face Tom, who raised his hands and gave her a couple of claps as he stood.

"You have done well, Rebecca," he said. "Your performance shows you to be a very promising member of my Inner Circle."

"Thank you, my Lord," she said, bowing her head.

She felt empty inside. She felt glad that she could stare for a moment at the stone floor of the Malfoy Manor.

"Severus," Tom said, turning to the man, "take Rebecca back to the castle. Reward her. Today is a day to be celebrated for your young pet."

He turned to give Rebecca a wicked smile. She merely bowed her head once more in response.

"I thank my Lord for his kind words," Rebecca said, forcing herself to put inflection into her words.

Severus held his hand out to her. She took it gratefully. Perhaps he would never know how gratefully. He led her through the manor as quickly as he could without making it look suspicious. Once they were out of the walls, he began murmuring to her.

"Only a few more minutes, and we will be on Hogwarts' grounds. Hold yourself together. Just a few more steps."

She barely heard his words. He grasped her to him as they reached the Apparation point, and she felt the pulling against her stomach. As soon as they landed, she all but fell to the ground. She did not faint, merely curled up into herself.

The tears that had taken so much effort to hold back pushed through, cascading down her face. She protected her face with her arms, rolling onto her side so he would not see her break down. Rebecca had just killed a person who had never done any harm to her, whose only "crime" was being a humanitarian for the wizarding community.

The sleeves of her robes were soaked within moments. But the tears were relentless. How could she have thought this would be so simple? Would had she been thinking when she agreed to become a spy for Albus? Why had she said yes? Killing uselessly was not going to help the wizarding world or "the greater good." It would only help Tom and his agenda.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Come now, Rebecca," Severus' voice told her. "You must get a hold of yourself. Charity may not be the first person that you must kill, but she will probably be the only one whom you know personally."

Rebecca had stopped sobbing so loudly. Severus was at least thankful for that.

"It's time to get up," Severus said, taking both of her wrists in his hands and pulling upward. "There is no use crying in the grass."

Rebecca managed to place her feet underneath her and aid him in helping her get up.

"S-she accepted her death," Rebecca told him. "She knew why I had to kill her." She shook her head.

Severus furrowed his brows at her, confused. "There is no way she could have known."

"I slipped," Rebecca said, all but yelling it at him. "I made my wand falter. I almost cried right in front of all of them. I told her I was sorry."

She nearly fell again, as Severus let go of her wrists suddenly at her admission. When she looked back at him, his face was full of a fury she hadn't seen in a long time.

"You could have cost us both of our lives, along with Charity Burbage's own!" he shouted at her, taking her again by the wrist and squeezing tightly.

Rebecca winced at the pain, but looked away from him, silently accepting her punishment. It was not just her wand that faltered, but her judgment.

"I told Albus that bringing a child into this world was something he couldn't begin to fathom," Severus continued. "But you are here, and there is little that I can do about it. I gave my word to Albus that I would keep you alive through this war. You're making it extremely difficult, and I do not like being made a liar."

He dropped her wrist, pushing her slightly away from him.

"You must think before acting. It will be your brains that keep you safe. Think little of Charity Burbage at the moment. If you did as you say, she understands that her death will not go unavenged." He took a step toward her, his nose nearly touching her own. He growled. "Screw up again and it might turn her death into a tragic thing that was unnecessary. Do not make Charity's death a vain one," he said through his teeth.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca whispered, wrapping her arms around herself and looking away from him.

"You did what you had to do," Severus said. "I only wish that I could have done it for you and spared you the nightmares."

She dared to glance up at him now. He was giving her a pitying look. He sighed.

"Let us get back to the castle. I'll escort you to your dorm room."

He began walking, and Rebecca ended up in step just behind him. She wondered if she would ever be able to sleep again. The image of Charity Burbage's expressionless face seemed imprinted upon the inside of her eyelids.


	9. Seventh Year, Part 3: MidSept to LateOct

__**Author's Note:** Long overdue, I'm aware. My life has been so crazy. I'm hopefully going to finish this story this summer, since I'm nearly done with the other parts to this final chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters except Rebecca and I don't plan on making money off of this.

* * *

_Potion-Making for Our Lord/Implementing a Plan, mid-September- mid-October 1997_

Nearly all of Rebecca's dormitory had been transformed into a Potions lab. The only things that remained intact were her bed, half of which was covered by textbooks and sheets of parchment, and her desk, which looked similar to her bed. Severus had taught her quite a number of protective spells to place upon her door whenever she left. They could risk no one getting in her dormitory and taking her things. Though she knew Draco would never betray her, she could not be certain that someone wouldn't have the ability to break into both their common room and her dormitory.

But while she planned out and tested her potion for Tom, Rebecca's mind was in constant turmoil. She had sent the owl to Marcus Flint the day after her conversation with Severus about losing her virginity. She was now convincing Marcus to meet her- secretly of course- in Hogsmeade in a few weekends' time. She'd told Severus that she'd followed his directions. He had relaxed somewhat about the subject, but he mentioned he would solidify the plans for her within the coming week and their conversation would continue. She wasn't looking forward to that.

She'd been pondering over her memory modifying skills and had come up with a rough idea of something that could work. All she needed was a distinct memory. The only problem was: where was she going to find one?

This problem took most of her energy until she was sitting in her shared common room with Draco the week after her conversation with Severus. She and Draco weren't talking to one another, as both were stuck working through some assignment or another. Suddenly, Rebecca had an epiphany. She looked up at the boy that had somehow become her friend, his family her protectors, and considered him long enough that he felt her eyes upon him. When he glanced up, he gave her a curious look.

"What?"

"Can we talk candidly?" she asked.

"I thought I warned you about doing that," Draco said, his brows furrowing.

"This castle is the safest place for us to talk without any prying ears. I also know for a fact that Bellatrix successfully taught you Occlumency this summer."

Draco opened his mouth as if to respond, but nothing came out.

"I'm very good at not being seen when I don't want to be," Rebecca told him.

Draco shook his head. "Fine. Talk."

"I need your help, Draco. Desperately."

His look grew more concerned. "Help with what?"

"I need a memory, but it can't be yours."

His eyes closed and he shook his head. "I don't think I'm following you."

"You know I'm not on the side of the Dark Lord."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised the whole bloody school hasn't figured that one out by now, but your acting skills are up to par whenever we're with the rest of them."

"I also know that your family isn't exactly thrilled with him either," Rebecca continued, narrowing her eyes.

"You wouldn't be either if he'd commandeered your house."

"I can help your family after the war if you help me now."

"How could you help us when you'll be in the same treasonous boat?"

"I'm best friends with Harry Potter," Rebecca said simply. "Once Harry wins, they'll listen to anything he says. I have him and quite a few other people who will vouch that I am on the side of the Light and have always been an Order spy. They'll believe me if I tell them you and your parents are on our side and were helping me, which you have been."

"Well, that certainly makes it more legitimate," Draco said, brows raised. "What kind of memory do you need?"

Rebecca felt her cheeks flush.

"Merlin, do I really want to know?" Draco asked.

"The Dark Lord wants Severus and me to be betrothed once I pass my initiation and get the Dark Mark."

It came out very fast and she wasn't sure if Draco heard all of it. His face went blank for a moment before understanding overtook him.

"Gods…"

"We've been fabricating memories up until this point, but our next memory will need to be based in fact, which is something that I'm lacking in."

"You're lacking in fact?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rebecca sighed, covering her face with a hand. "I've never had sex. The Dark Lord will expect me to have had it at this point considering I'm Severus' _pet_." Rebecca sneered at the word. "And he will definitely want the memories to change once we're engaged."

Draco blinked at her. "So why do you need the memory?"

"You're so daft sometimes," Rebecca said. "Severus is not going to sleep with me. It's inappropriate. He told me to go find someone to have sex with so we can re-create a proper memory." She held back her disgust. "He suggested you."

"But we're related, no matter how distantly," Draco said, looking thoroughly appalled for the both of them. "You're like my sister or cousin or something."

"That's what I said. But I figured that I don't have to create my own memory based in fact. I can get someone else's memory that's based in fact and make it my own."

Draco paused a moment. "So you need a girl's memory of her first time."

"Yes," Rebecca said, relieved that he had finally caught on.

"And you thought I could help?" he asked.

For a moment, Rebecca appeared stumped. "Well… yes." She shrugged.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and thought for a long time, staring at Rebecca as he did so. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.

"After this, I need you to erase my memory," he said. "I don't trust my Occlumency skills."

"I promise," Rebecca said.

Draco paused again. "Are you really sure you can help my family after this stupid war is over?"

"After everything you and your parents have done, yes," Rebecca said. "I'll do my best. Any effort by all of you will help."

Draco nodded, then stood. "Follow me, then."

"Do you seriously just have a memory lying around?" Rebecca asked, standing and walking behind him. They were headed toward his dorm.

Draco stopped just at his door, but did not turn around. "I have Pansy's memory of our first time," he said quietly. "She wanted me to keep it."

"And she never asked for it back?" Rebecca asked.

"No," Draco said, pushing open his door.

He went immediately to his trunk and rifled through it for a few moments before pulling out a vial. He got up and handed it to her.

"I won't be needing it back," he said. "We're not together anymore. Besides, I won't even remember that you took it. I'll just think I've misplaced it. It's probably better that way."

Rebecca placed it carefully inside her robes, then took out her wand. "Thank you, Draco. Really."

Draco nodded. "Are you going to tell Severus what you're doing?"

"No."

"Then who does he think you're sleeping with?"

"Marcus Flint."

Draco gave a short chuckle. "You're going to turn me into Flint and Pansy into you," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm going to be doing a lot more to the memory than that," she said. "And then Severus is going to change Flint to him."

"This whole thing has gotten out of hand," Draco said, his fists clenched by his sides. "I don't know what Father was thinking when he got in league with _him_."

"A lot of them didn't know what he would become," Rebecca said.

"I suppose." He glanced up at her. "When this is all over, Becca, don't ever tell me we had this conversation. I don't want to share a part in this when Severus catches wind that you've lied to him."

Rebecca stared at him.

"You're putting a lot at risk by going the roundabout way of things instead of just getting it over with," Draco said.

"I know."

"If Severus ever realizes what you've done… it won't be pretty."

Rebecca shrugged.

"Well, you should just be aware."

"Thanks for the warning," Rebecca said, leveling her wand with Draco's eyes. "_Obliviate_."

The spell shot forward and hit Draco square in the forehead. He held completely still as the memory erased from his mind. Rebecca lowered her wand and replaced it. Draco opened his eyes.

"Rebecca, what are you doing in my room?" Draco asked, his brows furrowed.

"I came to borrow a quill," she said. "My dorm's a total mess. I'll give it back once I've found one of mine." She gave him a smile.

Draco shook his head and turned to walk toward his desk. He retrieved a quill and came back to hand it to her.

"Thanks," she said, taking it from him. "Hey, didn't you have a Charms essay you were working on?"

"Yeah. I must've left my things in the common room." Draco shook his head. "Dunno what's wrong with me today. Anyway, I'll see you later, Becca."

He walked down the staircase and she watched him go, her hand upon the memories inside her robes. This was going to take a lot of work, but she could manage it.

Rebecca worked diligently on her potion. She'd successfully created the necessary base for it by the end of the next week. All things considered, it was going relatively smoothly. The memory-changing was going a bit more slowly. Rebecca had watched the memory Draco had given her over and over. She grew desensitized to it within the first day of receiving it. She had to. If she were to play her part convincingly, she had to understand every single feeling Pansy had been feeling during these moments.

Once she had the feelings understood as best as she could, she began slowly changing the memory to reflect the images of her and Flint. If she did the majority of the work now, she would not need to do much else to the memory the night that she had to go to Flint and fool Severus when she returned.

By the ending of September, she had a fairly decent replacement of her and Flint for Draco and Pansy. This was also the time Severus wanted to continue their conversation. She entered his office solemnly and sat in a chair near the fireplace. The days were slowly growing colder, so a fire was occasionally lit. Tonight was one of those nights. It reminded her of the days she'd sit with Albus. She felt her mood darken.

Severus approached and took the seat across from her. She flicked her gaze toward him. He was growing paler, gaunter with each day that went by. He'd always had circles under his eyes, but they were deeper and blacker now. He moved his head slightly once he realized that he was under her scrutiny. His lank hair fell in his face, effectively shielding his features from her.

"You're not eating, Dobby says," Rebecca said. She felt the need to start some sort of conversation.

"The house elf is much too observant for his own good," Severus grumbled.

"You're stretching yourself too thin."

He said nothing.

"You can't overlook all detentions," Rebecca continued. "Why not assign some to Draco or me?"

"I will do no such thing," Severus said, straightening in his seat. "That is not what we're here to discuss, Rebecca. How goes your communication with Flint?"

Rebecca sighed. "I've led him to believe that I'm in trouble, which he could have gathered from reading any paper or being cognizant of any of the goings-ons in the world… which he'll have to be since professional Quidditch has been under scrutiny because of the new Ministry."

"And?"

"He has agreed to the meeting on the night of the seventeenth."

Severus nodded. "I have made arrangements for you to have a room at the end under a pseudonym. I trust your Transfiguration abilities are up to par? You'll need to change your features enough so you won't be recognized once you're in Hogsmeade."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be able to come up with sufficient facial and bodily changes to fool anyone I wish," Rebecca said. "If not, I have Polyjuice as back-up."

"Good. Once you're through with Flint, erase his memory of your encounter," Severus said. "I've also arranged for a… call girl to be waiting in the room across the hall. She's been paid in advance for her troubles and silence."

"Won't another person just be another memory to erase?" Rebecca asked.

"She's a half-blood," Severus answered. "Her purity will not be called into question as long as she remains silent about what she's been asked to do through these proceedings."

Rebecca nodded. "Excellent choice, then."

"Once you're finished with Flint, rap on the door of the room directly across from yours," Severus continued. "Make certain she gets comfortable with Flint before leaving them. As soon as she is situated, return to the castle. I'll be waiting for your safe return."

Rebecca nodded. "I appreciate the sentiment," she said, unable to keep the hint of sarcasm from her voice.

"I must make certain our Lord's rising star is unharmed."

She had to take a second look at him to be sure he was only putting on an act. Sometimes he was so unreadable. He was masking anger at the moment, of that she knew.

"I know you're still angry that I'm upset about these proceedings," Rebecca said. "But I assure you I'll go through with it. I must."

"See that you do," Severus said shortly. "You're dismissed for tonight."

Rebecca had gone rigid at his last comment. Had he such little faith in her nerve? Well, she supposed he had a right to, seeing as she wasn't actually going to go through with what they'd planned. But she couldn't let his comment go- not if she didn't want him to begin suspecting her of being up to something.

"Thank you so much for your faith in my nerve, Severus," she said, her voice low and deadly. "I'm only giving up so much for the wizarding world's future."

He was on his feet so quickly, Rebecca nearly didn't see him until he was approaching her. He looked positively terrifying: a walking, livid skeleton. He reached for her, and Rebecca put up a hand to block him. He merely shifted his grasp so that he took both of her wrists in an iron grip. She struggled for a moment, but he had her so close that she was too frightened to move anymore. Rebecca stared into the flaming black eyes of Severus Snape and understood that she had pushed him too much tonight. She readied herself for her punishment, began trying to curl up so to protect herself.

"You have given up so very little," Severus growled.

She smelled Firewhiskey. Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew her whole body was trembling.

"Your arrogance may get you far in the Inner Circle, but do not presume to be some sort of martyr," Severus said, lifting her wrists enough to pull her face closer, so she could see every line on his face. Her trembling grew worse. "I have given up so much more. So much more than you could even begin to fathom."

Suddenly, Rebecca saw the light of anger go out in his eyes. For a moment, all she saw was pain.

"Severus," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"You could never be sorry enough," he said, loosening his grip on her wrists.

Rebecca dropped a bit to the ground. His strength still impressed her, particularly for how lithe he was. Now it was just another reason to fear him.

"L-let me call Dobby to get you some food," Rebecca said, her voice shaking more than she wanted it to.

"I want you to get out," Severus said, leaning forward threateningly.

"I won't be afraid of you just because you want me to," Rebecca whispered, unable to find her voice.

"Your speech indicates otherwise," he replied with a sneer.

Rebecca stared back into his eyes defiantly. Without looking away, she called, "Dobby!"

There was a "pop!" and the house elf appeared. He glanced between the two humans, trying to piece together the emotions in the room.

"Dobby, please get the Headmaster some dinner," Rebecca said, finally looking away from Severus. "As soon as you can, please."

Her voice still shook slightly, but she had more control of it.

Dobby nodded, looking worriedly from Rebecca to Severus. "Dobby will return shortly, Miss Rebecca."

He popped out of the room once more. Rebecca looked back to find that Severus was giving her a deadly look.

"We're in this together for the remainder of the war, Severus," Rebecca said slowly. "I will not allow you to push me away."

"You're a fool."

The sentence hung in the air for a long, silent moment.

Dobby popped back into the room, arms laden with a large tray of food. Rebecca looked to him kindly and took the tray. She dismissed him. The house elf was gone within moments of arriving.

Rebecca turned to Severus. She sat the tray of food on the small table next to her chair.

"You're going to sit and eat that food," she said. "You should also know that drinking on an empty stomach isn't a good idea."

"You're an over-imposing, arrogant chit."

"You're drunk and angry," Rebecca said.

Severus furrowed his brows in a glare. "And now you're going to sit here and watch me eat every last bite, are you? As if I'm some simpering idiot child."

"You're a grown man and I expect you to be able to know when to eat when you need to," Rebecca said. "But you don't. You have food in front of you. Eat it or not, I won't force you or watch you should you choose to eat. I ordered it to show you I'm not going anywhere. I have no more choice in the matter."

"Get out of my office."

"Fine," Rebecca said. "But I'll see you tomorrow night. As scheduled."

She turned and made her way to the door. As she shut the door behind her, Rebecca heard something crash heavily against the other side. She paused, her eyes shut. After another moment, she took in a deep, shuddering breath and walked away from the Headmaster's office and down to her own dormitory.

That night had proven overly difficult for sleep to find her. So she stayed up and worked on her potion. She did this as opposed to thinking. She did not want to consider everything that had happened earlier in the evening.

The next day's classes did little to ease her mind. At least she did not have to go to Dark Arts. It was merely Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic, with a free period in the afternoon before dinner. Draco was chipper for one reason or another, which she couldn't peg down. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered behind them as usual. How had they passed their classes? she wondered idly. How were they even in N.E.W.T.-level classes?

At dinner, she felt his eyes upon her. He had not shown up for breakfast nor for lunch. She had not let his absence worry her. She could not. She had to act the all-knowing, all-powerful and untouchable plaything of the Headmaster. But now, his eyes watched her every move. Watched her lean over the table so she could grab the butter for her bread, asking Draco to pass the gravy for her potatoes. Draco's chipper mood seemed to subside.

"What have you done to Severus to get him so angry?" he whispered.

"I don't have the slightest clue what you're talking about," she replied through a clenched jaw.

"Well, your ignoring him doesn't appear to be helping the situation."

"That's too bad."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Draco said with a shake of his head.

The Headmaster finally stood and left the staff table. Usually, this would be an indication for her to leave as well. Or at least to leave soon. Rebecca did no such thing. She finished her food on her time, even waiting until the dessert was cleared away from the table. Finally, after a full half-hour had passed from Severus leaving the Great Hall, she stood and bid Draco and any of the other Slytherins farewell for now.

Her steps up to the Headmaster's office were slow and deliberate. She did not care if her lateness made him angrier. She wasn't sure what point she was trying to prove. The ability to still choose her own schedule? The fact that she would not be his own little pawn? Or perhaps she was so nervous to face him tonight because of what had happened the night before.

She glanced down at her hands and noticed they were trembling. Her knees felt weaker as she grew closer to his office.

She'd been stalling unconsciously.

But now the gargoyle was before her. There could be no more stalling as it moved aside to let her pass. She walked up the stairs. At the top, she placed her hand on the doorknob. It was cold to her touch. She took in a deep, shaky breath before turning it and pushing against the door.

She was in the office and closed the door quickly. She felt the wards slip back into place. Rebecca kept her hand on the doorknob, as if it would somehow keep her from experiencing his wrath.

"You're late."

His voice was much too close. Rebecca couldn't force herself to turn around.

"Look at me."

She bit her lower lip.

"Rebecca. I said: 'Look. At. Me.'"

She could picture him baring his teeth at her. Oh, Merlin.

Slowly, she did as she was bid.

Severus was standing just feet away from her, glaring. She looked down to the stone floor. Footsteps reverberated off the walls as he approached her. Her shoulders slumped forward.

From her peripherals, Rebecca saw his hand reach for her wrist. She stopped herself from backing away. There was nowhere to go. She was up against the door, the only exit.

Severus' hand was gentle as he lifted her wrist up in order to inspect it. His other hand reached out for her other wrist and looked that over as well. Her wrists had bruised from his grip the night before. Blue and purple rings encircled both of them. She'd hidden them throughout most of the day, but it was difficult to hide them in Charms or Transfiguration. She'd gotten pitying looks from many of the students, but the ones from McGonagall and Flitwick were the worst.

"You could have easily healed these," he said, his voice deep but calm.

"What would have been the point?" she asked, her voice quiet. At least it came out level. "They all think I am your pet. To do with what you wish."

She managed to glance up at him. His eyes were passive. At least he didn't appear so angry anymore.

"It's just another part of the job," she added when he didn't say anything.

"I did not mean what I said." Severus' voice grew firmer, determined.

"You meant every word," Rebecca said. "You can't take back what you truly feel."

She pulled her wrists gently from his grasp and moved away from the door. She still did not enjoy the feeling of being trapped.

"I… understand that this is difficult for you," Severus said, turning to watch her as she went to stand before his desk. "I wish I could be more sympathetic."

"I don't really feel the need to beat a dead horse, Severus," Rebecca said. "Do you need to elaborate on our plans concerning Flint anymore? If not, I would like to close the discussion."

"I cannot have you be frightened of me," Severus said, his face contorting in such a way that made her think maybe he was trying not to be so angry. "The position we find ourselves in requires the utmost trust in one another."

Rebecca kept her mouth shut.

Severus sighed heavily, putting his hand over his face for a moment. He looked to the floor before turning his head to meet her steady gaze.

"Rebecca, despite my better judgment and because of this situation we find ourselves in, I must trust you," Severus said. "And I do trust you."

"Not because I've never given you a reason not to trust me. Not because you find that I am a trustworthy person. But because of the situation we find ourselves in."

Severus stared at the formidable opponent he found himself facing, the same girl who was his student. The scared, little muggleborn in the Slytherin common room. When had she become this person before him? How had he not noticed her changing? She would not back down, not now. He saw things from her point of view: her friends were all but gone, she was the only muggleborn with immunity and a direct link to the Dark Lord, who favored her for so many unfathomable reasons. Her only link to her old life was him, the one man who had trouble opening up to anyone else, and the only people he had were dead.

She needed this. This trust. She needed him to recognize her as something other than his student and protégé, someone he was ordered to protect at all costs.

"I trust _you_, Rebecca," he said.

She considered him for a long time before finally giving a little sigh and glancing away from him, toward his bookshelf. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her legs were together, closing her off from everything in the room.

"Despite the fact that you scared me almost to death last night, I trust you too, Severus."

Her eyes flicked back to him, though her stance did not change. He saw a tiny flicker of a smile cross her face. He gave a curt nod.

"We shall drop the subject as you wish, then, since I have nothing further about the plans to elaborate on," he said.

Rebecca immediately relaxed. "Then I need to be dismissed early tonight," she said. "I think I made a break-through in my Animagus potion last night."

Severus nodded once more. "That's good to hear. You may leave whenever you wish."

Rebecca gave a tiny smile in his direction before she began walking toward the door. As she passed in front of him, she heard him speak softly.

"I assume that means you could not sleep last night?"

She stopped just after she had passed him. "No. I couldn't."

There was a beat of silence.

"Neither could I."

Rebecca glanced at him over her shoulder. His face was unreadable, but the way he looked away from her prying eyes suggested some sort of emotion she hadn't seen him wear before. Remorse?

She supposed that was as good of an apology as she was going to get. But she wouldn't point out the fact that she'd read him correctly once more. Perhaps within the next few mistakes she could get him to utter the phrase, "I apologize." But that was fantasy, enough so to make her smirk.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Severus."

She left him, then, feeling the tension leaving her as she headed back to her dormitory.

Rebecca managed to slowly bring both her created memory and her potion together. She discussed little of the potion's inner-workings with Severus. Instead, she focused on the creation of a few memories for the Dark Lord. They were just on the off-chance he should want to take a look into Severus' mind during one of his impromptu meetings with the new Headmaster.

During their limited time together, Severus was kinder in his word choice to Rebecca. She picked up on it immediately, but acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She wondered what had caused him to over-react that night the week before. Why had he been drinking to begin with? She could ask him but risk breaking his kindness, even if it was very Snape-like in its kindness.

They had a tendency to fall into silence with one another when she visited. She would bring her studies or essays and he would do the massive amount of paperwork that never seemed to leave his desk. Rebecca watched him this night, still admiring of how graceful his movements were. She was lost in thought when he glanced up to find her staring at him.

He raised an eyebrow but made no other motions.

She shook her head lightly. "I was just thinking."

"Not an uncommon occurrence," he muttered. The eyebrow was still cocked.

"Have your movements always been so precise?" Rebecca asked. "Or was it something you had to work at?"

He blinked at her. She allowed a little smirk at the triumph of confusing him.

"I was always really gawky as a kid," Rebecca continued. "I've been jealous of your gracefulness since I got here."

Severus rolled his eyes, glancing back down at the sheet of parchment in front of him. "It is something to be achieved, Rebecca, not a natural phenomenon."

She looked back down to her Transfiguration book. It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate on the subject matter. Her meeting with Flint was now only a few days away.

"I'm nervous," she said to her textbook.

Severus slowly lifted his head at her words. She was clutching her textbook with both hands hard enough that the pages appeared to be crinkling. For how much she revered books, this was something unusual.

"I'm going to go through with it," Rebecca said, turning her head to meet his steady gaze, "but I'm nervous about the whole thing."

"You have your Polyjuice should your transfigured appearance not be up to your standards?" Severus asked.

"Yes."

"You have practiced your Memory Charm?"

"Of course."

"And you have your… protection?"

Rebecca nearly blanched. That had been an uncomfortable conversation. They'd decided on the muggle method of a condom. It was undetectable as far as any magical methods were concerned and the Dark Lord would never think one of his Death Eaters would utilize a muggle contraption.

"Yes," she said through her teeth.

"Then you have little to worry about."

"I have _everything_ to worry about." Her voice came out a harsh whisper.

It was the absolute truth. He just wasn't entirely aware of what she was talking about. And she hoped he never discovered what kind of danger she would be putting the two of them in. Rebecca was concerned for the memory not being perfect. She'd watched it over and over for any inconsistencies, any trace of fault within the most minute aspects of the memory. It was as solid as the castle. Now if it could fool Severus, it could fool Tom. And she wouldn't need to give up the only part of herself she had left to give. She could make it through this war mostly intact.

Severus considered her for a while before answering. "This is not my area of expertise," he stated simply. "But I can understand your nervousness for the situation. I assure you, you have nothing to be concerned about. Your experience, though not the simplest, will not be too horrid. You will be able to get past it. And no one will be any the wiser of it unless you choose to divulge to them what happened during the war."

"Only we will know," Rebecca said.

Severus nodded slowly.

"I know you would never tell another," Rebecca said, allowing the grip on her textbook to loosen. "Even once the war is over. You'll keep my secrets just as I keep yours."

"Yes," he said.

Rebecca glanced up at the sleeping portrait of Albus. The white-haired man in the painting lay back against his chair, mouth slightly agape.

When she looked back to Severus, she found him now watching her.

"I'm certain if Albus were here, he would have discovered a loophole of sorts," Severus said quietly.

"Albus would have sided with you," Rebecca said. "As he always did." She gave a smile. "I hope you don't hate yourself for having to do what you were ordered."

The frown-lines on Severus' face suddenly grew deeper.

"You're a much better friend than anyone would give you credit for, Severus," Rebecca pressed on, knowing that he would kick her out for this statement. "You did what no one else was capable of doing. I'm glad to have had you as my mentor." She paused for only a second before adding, "And I hope that by the end of all of this you might consider me a friend."

This was the second time tonight she had shocked him into silence. He could think of no answer to give her. His immediate reaction, naturally, would have been to shun her. But their relationship, though professional, was much different than others he was accustomed to. He was not someone another person would seek out as a friend.

She stood to leave, seeing his blank expression. It would be better to go now than wait any longer a risk him being angry with her again.

"Good night, Severus."

He watched her go, puzzled and silent.

* * *

_Plan Engaged, October 17-18, 1997_

Rebecca was able to transfigure herself before she left the castle that night. She had managed to still her hands long enough to perform this task.

She glanced at herself in the mirror before she left her dormitory. Her hair was now a dark brown color, her eyes matching the strands that fell into her face. Her nose had been altered slightly to be narrower. Her cheeks were slightly sunken, as if she hadn't eaten well in the past few weeks. That would be enough to fool anyone during their first glance at her. They would not look again.

She peeked into her common room, though she knew Draco was out for the night with some of the other Slytherins. She had excused herself as she did each weekend evening. The majority of her time was spent with the Headmaster, as Draco well understood by now.

She kept her face hidden as she made her way out onto the grounds. The castle was completely silent as the dark night enveloped her. She had to pass by Hagrid's hut with a Silencing Charm around her lest Fang should hear her. Finally, she was outside of the wards.

She clutched her wand tightly and took in a deep breath to steady herself. Merlin, this had better work. Rebecca wasn't certain if she could handle Severus if her memory didn't uphold.

But she stopped that thought before it could form anymore. She couldn't be any more nervous than she already was or she couldn't Apparate.

Finally, the thought of the inn at Hogsmeade appeared in her brain. Soon, she left Hogwarts grounds with a "pop."

She reappeared in an alley just beside the inn. She walked in confidently toward the front desk, cloak billowing behind her. She and Marcus had agreed on a pseudonym for him so she may ask for him without bringing too much suspicion upon themselves. She already knew what room he was in, but waltzing up the stairs without consulting the witch or wizard at the front desk would have made her more memorable, which she did not want.

The witch behind the front desk gave her a nod before approaching.

"Yes, miss?"

"I'm looking for the room Mr. Alan Chambers is in," Rebecca said, even giving her voice a bit of a different accent to it.

"Yes, Mr. Chambers did say he was expecting a guest," the witch said pleasantly. She glanced down at the roster before looking back up at Rebecca. "He'll be on the second floor- in room 211. It's on the left."

"Thank you," Rebecca said with a nod.

She made her way up the stairs, her legs stiffening as she got to the top. She had very little time left to steel her nerves. Rebecca stood before the door Marcus was waiting behind. Raising her hand, she wrapped her knuckles against the wood of the door and waited.

He answered almost immediately. He frowned a bit when he first saw her. She raised her finger to her lips and stepped inside. She closed the door behind them and put up a number of wards before turning to him.

"Marcus," she said, putting relief into her voice.

"I was beginning to wonder if I'd picked up an unwelcome visitor," Marcus said, smirking.

Rebecca had to stop herself from biting her lower lip. Marcus was so dense sometimes, so utterly dense and willing to please. She knew that he could make a good Slytherin if he put his mind to it, but he had little desire to. She felt bad for taking advantage of him like this, but she needed him for her plan to work.

Rebecca held still and transfigured her features back to normal. Marcus gave her a smile.

"That's better," he said. "Have a seat and tell me what's going on."

He gestured to the small table and two chairs over in the corner of the room. Rebecca followed him and sat across from him.

"I had to change the way I looked to make sure I could get out of the castle and into Hogsmeade successfully," she explained quickly. "I should've mentioned what I'd look like, but I didn't want to risk my owl being intercepted."

"It's fine, it's fine," Marcus said, shaking his head. "Just tell me what's going on. What's gotten you all out of sorts enough to sneak out of Hogwarts to see me?"

Rebecca leveled her gaze. Marcus' face grew grave.

"That bad?"

"Marcus, what I'm about to say can't leave this room."

"I swear." He leaned forward and grasped her hands in his. She let him.

"I know you won't tell," she said comfortingly, giving him a tiny smile.

He looked to her, waiting.

"Marcus, I've been an Order spy since the summer before my fifth year," Rebecca said evenly.

"Order?"

"The Order of the Phoenix. It's Albus Dumbledore's secret group of witches and wizards working against the Dark Lord."

Marcus blinked a few times in rapid succession.

"I'm attempting to gain entry in the Death Eaters, to bring them down from the inside," Rebecca continued. "Professor Snape has been helping me."

"But I always thought Snape was on our side…"

"He is. He's the one who trained me on how to spy," Rebecca said. "And the Dark Lord believes that Professor Snape is still loyal to him." She grew quiet for a moment. "I need your help, Marcus. I'm creating a memory to fool the Dark Lord, and only you can help me. I need your complete cooperation."

"Anything for you, Becca," Marcus said. "Especially if it'll help the wizarding world, too."

Rebecca nodded.

She had him.

"I need you to lie on the bed," she said.

He got up and did what he was told. She reached into her robes and got out a sheet of parchment. Rebecca walked the few feet to the bed and handed him the parchment.

"Look over those lines for a few minutes. I need you to repeat them to me with conviction."

Marcus nodded. He glanced at the parchment. He sat up and dropped the page onto the bed.

"What is that?" he asked, clearly upset.

Rebecca sighed quietly. "It's supposed to sound as though we're having sex," she said simply. "Only you're supposed to be Professor Snape. I'm changing that in my memory."

He looked at her for a long time. "What kind of arts have you gotten into, Becca?"

"That's none of your concern at the moment, Marcus," she said quietly. "Please. I need your help."

He didn't move for a long time. Rebecca was sure she was going to have to hex him before he could get out of the room and erase his memory.

Slowly, Marcus looked from her to the parchment. He picked it up and went over his lines for a few very tense, silent minutes. Without looking up from it, he said, "I'm ready."

"Just start whenever," Rebecca told him. "Speak the lines one at a time. I'll tell you when I'm ready to move on."

He nodded.

She sat on the chair away from the bed.

"You've kept away from me far too long," he said.

Rebecca held up a hand. "Good. One second."

That was replaced into the memory, Marcus' lips forming in her mind the words he spoke, courtesy of him in the now.

Rebecca opened her eyes. "Continue."

"I'm glad you finally came to me," Marcus said, his voice level.

They repeated this process until Marcus had read every line on the parchment. He crumpled it up and threw it in the corner. Rebecca looked to him, concerned.

"I feel disgusting," he said through a clenched jaw. His eyes moved to find hers. "Do you really think that's how I talk?"

"No," Rebecca said, shaking her head. "That's how Snape will have wanted it to be."

She approached him. He sat up, looking less surly. She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand, reaching around to bring him into a hug. He accepted, holding her tightly back.

"You're the only friend I've got now, Marcus," Rebecca said. "What with Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the run."

"The other Slytherins seem to have taken a liking to you," he said.

She glanced at him.

"_The Prophet_ tells a lot about what goes on in Hogwarts," Marcus said. "And you've been found to have pure blood in you. That counts for a lot. You're on par with the Malfoys now."

She pulled a bit from his grasp.

"But you'll never be like them really, Becca," Marcus said, tracing his fingers down the side of her face.

Rebecca remained still, though on the inside of her robes, her hand was on her wand.

"Thank you, Marcus," she said. "For everything."

"Anything for a friend."

"Yes," Rebecca said with a smile. "_Stupefy_."

Marcus fell back onto the bed, unconscious. Rebecca watched him for a while before exposing her wand fully.

"_Obliviate_," she muttered, focused on the last twenty minutes.

The memory came from him in a silvery mist. It dissipated in the air. Rebecca gave a sigh of relief.

She adjusted her features once more, intent upon focusing on this task before looking once more at the memory. It should do just fine now. She'd even gotten Marcus' voice, looks, and movements down because of meeting with him tonight. Surely this memory would do for Severus. Then he could re-do it as he saw fit, replacing himself in Marcus' place without any difficulty.

She sat in the chair in the corner of the room for fifteen minutes more before feeling satisfied enough with the memory. Finally, she stood.

"_Accio parchment_."

She took that with her, too, intent upon destroying it when she got back to the castle. Rebecca went across the hallway. Rebecca knocked on the door directly across from Marcus'.

Out stepped a gorgeous witch with blond hair and blue eyes, who smiled at transfigured Rebecca's mousey features.

"He's just through that door," Rebecca informed the witch, pointing at the door she'd just come through. "He'll be passed out on the bed. Had a bit too much to drink."

The call girl's smile only widened. "They merely pay more when they have." She patted Rebecca on the cheek. "Thanks for the Quidditch player." She winked.

Her own door shut behind her as the witch made her way across the hallway. Once she was inside, Rebecca waited a few moments until she was certain the other woman wasn't going to come out. Then she made her way back out of the inn, slipping past the receptionist.

As she walked around to the side of the building, Rebecca allowed her shoulders to slump forward and for her to shuffle a bit. She Apparated back to Hogwarts. Just outside the grounds, she transfigured her features back to normal. She looked depressed, but not too defeated. She held her arms around her stomach. Then she made her way to the Headmaster's office.

He was waiting up for her, sitting beside the unlit fireplace, staring into it as if it would give him answers. He looked to the door as soon as it opened and took in her appearance in one glance. He stood and went to her, unsure what he would do once he got to her.

Rebecca met his gaze without raising her face. She merely lifted her eyes and waited. After a moment, he put his fingers to her chin and lifted her face to meet his fully. She shivered at his touch. She hadn't meant to do that.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," she answered.

"What did you tell him to cooperate?" Severus asked, unsure if he wanted to hear her reply.

Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat and licked her lips. Her eyes flicked to the side of his face, anywhere but directly into his black eyes.

"I told him that I preferred men having complete control over me," she said quietly.

Severus shut his eyes for a moment.

"It worked. He performed as I wished him to without any other prompting," Rebecca continued.

He took her by the shoulders and steered her toward one of the chairs. He only pushed on her shoulders a bit to get her to sit. He stood before her. She looked up at him.

"_Legilimens_," he said.

He slipped in easily. The memory was in the forefront of her mind.

He watched her enter the room at the inn. Flint came to her.

"Becca-"

She held a finger to his lips. He stopped talking and looked to her.

"I came because I need you to do something for me, Marcus," she said. "Something I've been holding back on for a while. I can't wait anymore."

"Anything, Becca. What is it?"

She stood on her tip-toes and whispered into his ear, "I want you to fuck me."

A shiver went down the boy's spine as he grasped either side of her waist. Their eyes met. Rebecca grinned.

"I like men who can overpower me," she continued. "Can you do that, Marcus? Can you be rough with me?"

"Anything you want," he said, cupping her face in his hands.

Never once did Rebecca allow him to kiss her. She would turn her head. He did not seem to push the issue, instead nipping at her skin.

"You've kept away from me far too long," Marcus whispered into her ear before biting down on her earlobe.

Rebecca cried out. Marcus continued his ministrations.

"I'm glad you finally came to me," he said, taking off her cloak. He tossed it over his shoulder.

The memory only got worse from there. Severus forced himself to watch it in its entirety, even when the boy was taking her from behind. It was more than he had ever wanted to see, especially of his favored student. Throughout, she had played the submissive role admirably, never breaking character once. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, the only thing that would give away her fear and disgust.

The memory was finished. Severus took a few steps back and sat in the chair across from her. He didn't know what to say.

"I already edited out the part about the condom," Rebecca said quietly. "And where I Stunned him and took away this part of his memory. The girl was there, as promised. She'll be there with him until morning."

Severus nodded.

Rebecca glanced at him. "I'll leave the memory with you so you can modify it as you need to," she told him.

With a wave of his hand, the Pensieve floated toward Rebecca from one of the cabinets and settled on the table beside her. She placed her wand to her forehead, concentrating on the memory, and slowly pulled it from her mind before placing it inside the Pensieve, where it was the only thing floating around.

She watched him now. Judged his reactions. He was still not speaking. That meant that he had believed everything in the memory. And how would the memory react once he began modifying it? It had seemed stable enough, even after all of the tampering she had done to it.

Severus noticed that she stared at him. He realized that he needed to say something.

"You were very brave, Rebecca," he said. "You did well."

She inclined her head, but said nothing.

"You may stay here if you wish," he said.

He was surprised those had been the words to have come from his mouth.

Rebecca gave him the tiniest of smiles. "No, thank you. I'll just go back to my dormitory. I'm tired."

"I… yes, I imagine you are," Severus said.

Rebecca stood to leave, straightening her robes.

"Tell me should you need anything," Severus said.

She met his eyes once more and gave him a kind look. "Thank you, Severus. But I think I'll be all right once I have some time to myself."

Severus nodded. "Do you want the Dreamless Sleep?"

"Severus, I'm fine," Rebecca said firmly. "Good night."

He looked to the floor as she left his office. "Good night, Rebecca."

* * *

_News of the Trio, October 21, 1997_

Severus noticed that Rebecca was back to her usual self after the weekend. When he saw her on Monday morning in the Great Hall during breakfast, she appeared animated as she spoke with Draco. Perhaps she was much stronger than he initially imagined. Perhaps she could make it through the Dark Mark initiation ceremony and its aftermath. But he would have to see. That was only a few weeks away, however. She would need to be prepared.

So he waited for her in his quarters again that night. Rebecca came in with a bit of a smile on her face.

"You appear to be much better today," he noted.

"I made a break-through in my potion over the weekend," she told him happily as she flopped down in a chair across from him. "Since I wasn't seeing anyone, all I did was work on my potion."

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She waved a hand at him dismissively. "Sleep wasn't important. I have to have that potion finished for Tom."

"How much longer do you think it will be until it is complete?"

"A few days at most. Then I can test it on myself to make certain it's safe."

"Are you sure it will be stable enough for human consumption?"

"You sound like you're doubting me, Severus," Rebecca said, looking slightly hurt.

Severus sighed. "I shall trust that you know what you're doing. But if you must test it on yourself, at least do it in my presence so I might help should something go wrong."

"That I can do."

"Very well," Severus said. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I have the modified memory for you."

With a wave of his hand, his Pensieve floated through the air from its cabinet and settled on the table beside him. He drew it out with his wand.

"I made a copy for myself. I changed very little. You may watch it now if you wish…"

"I'll just take it," Rebecca said, reaching forward with her wand. She took the memory from his wand tip onto hers before transferring it to her forehead, where the silvery mist-like substance trickled into her mind. She shivered a bit, but forced it into the back of her mind so she would not have to watch what was there.

There was silence between the two. It was broken by mutterings from one of the portraits.

"Stupid Mudblood… Thinking she can control _me_."

Severus rounded upon the portrait of Phineas Nigellus faster than she had ever seen him move before. His wand sparked red jolts as he shoved it into the portrait's face.

"What did you say?"

Phineas flailed for a moment before hiding behind his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process.

"My apologies, Headmaster," Phineas sputtered.

"Severus, please do stay calm," Albus said from his portrait beside Phineas'. "Let him explain."

Severus sneered at Phineas, but lowered his wand a bit. "Well?"

Phineas came out from behind his chair slowly. "My other portrait, as you know, was formerly located in Grimmauld Place," he began. "Well, since the Golden Trio took to staying in it, the Mu-"

A sharp look from Severus stopped Phineas in his tracks. He looked around a bit.

"The bushy-haired one- what is her name?" Phineas asked.

"Hermione," Rebecca said, standing and approaching the portrait. "Hermione Granger."

"Well, this Granger person had the idea that I might try to report them to you, so she covered me up and put me in her bag. I couldn't hear or see anything, so that's why I've stayed here for the most part, though I would really rather not."

"The point, _Phineas_," Severus growled.

"The point, _Severus_, is that she took my portrait with her on their journey," Phineas said.

"You know where they are?" Rebecca asked, feeling a wave of excitement go through her.

"Somewhat," Phineas said. "They're careful not to speak too freely when they know I can hear. And they change location frequently. I do know that the red-headed one has left the other two."

"What?" Rebecca said, feeling as though her knees might give out. "Why?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

"As far as I can tell, they're holding one of the Horcruxes," Phineas continued.

"They got the locket?" Rebecca whispered, mostly to herself.

"It seems to make them hostile towards one another when one of them is in possession of the Horcrux," Phineas said. "The red-head stormed off because he believed the other two were conspiring against him."

"Do you know where Ron went?" Rebecca asked frantically.

"Yes, Felan, because he stopped and had a chat with me about where he would go when he was in a rage."

Rebecca approached the portrait. "Can you think of anything he might have mentioned, Phineas? If I can get to him, I might be able to find out where Harry and Hermione are and we can give them the sword so they can destroy the Horcruxes they find."

Phineas looked to the Mudblood before him and considered her. Albus had thought very highly of her. And she wasn't threatening him, like Severus would normally do. He glanced at the new Headmaster now, to gauge his reaction. He seemed to be letting Felan do the talking as he watched on. If he respected her- this man who very infrequently gave his respect- then he could do this for her.

Phineas sighed. "He mentioned his elder brother… the one who'd recently gotten married and was living on his own. The red-head said he was jealous of their home."

"Shell Cottage," Rebecca said. "Ron was talking about Bill. He might have gone there."

She turned to Severus, beaming. "I could go talk to him," she continued. "Bill and Fleur would let me in. I could pretend to have escaped from the castle, to have talked to Phineas on my own. Ron would believe me and I wouldn't have to blow your cover, too."

She knew Severus would not want that. But the man was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What?" she asked.

"It would be very risky for you to do something like that," he said slowly. "We should just wait for Phineas to discover Potter and Granger's location so that we may deliver the sword to Potter directly."

"But Ron will never forgive himself if he can't get back to them," Rebecca said. "Maybe I can help him find a way back."

"How? With a Point Me spell?" Severus asked derisively.

"I don't know, Severus," Rebecca said, throwing her hands up. "I just want to see my friend. To hug him. So I know that he's actually all right." She paused. "I was able to leave the castle once before without being missed. Certainly I could do it again."

Severus looked her over for a long time. "I don't like the idea," he said. "But you may go."

Rebecca grinned, jumping up and down on the spot. The joy she felt at seeing her friend once more after so long was enough to make her want to cast her Patronus. But she held back.

"I promise I won't mess this up, Severus," she said quickly.

"See that you don't," he replied, looking grim all of a sudden. "You're dismissed for the night. You'll need to find Shell Cottage before you can go Apparating to it."

She smiled at him once more before leaving his quarters.

"She's going to be the death of me," Severus whispered, pushing his hair back from his face.

Albus chuckled from his portrait.

"Don't make me blast your portrait apart." He shot the older man a look.

"Oh, Severus, you know you're fond of the girl," Albus said, his blue eyes twinkling.

Severus sneered before returning to his desk.

* * *

_A Short Trip, October 25, 1997_

Rebecca had the location of Shell Cottage clearly in her mind as she made her way past the wards that Saturday evening. She'd cornered Ginny in the corridor Tuesday. Not only did Ginny give her the coordinates, but a picture of the house from the hill above it later that day.

"The only reason I trust you is because you helped Neville," Ginny whispered harshly.

"You won't regret it, I promise," Rebecca said, glancing over her shoulder. They were alone, but she had cast _Muffliato_ just in case.

Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "The Carrows are getting worse. I heard Alecto talking to her brother in the corridor one day. They didn't know I was there. They want to hurt Neville."

Her eyes were large with fear.

"And others…" she added.

Rebecca considered this information. "I'll see what I can come up with. Remember, keep this conversation secret. I know you're better at it than Ron ever was."

Ginny gave a curt nod.

Rebecca released the spell and was on her way.

Now she was under another Disillusionment Charm. Finally, she made it past the wards. The picture of Shell Cottage she clutched in her hand inside her robes. She lifted her wand, concentrating, and was gone.

Rebecca reappeared on the hillside the picture was taken from. She looked down to see the waves rolling up on the beach. Other than the sound of the waves and the wind, all was quiet. She approached the cottage carefully, her wand in her robes.

She was less than a hundred yards from the cottage when the door opened. Bill stepped outside, wand pointed into the darkness, the tip shining brightly.

"Who's there?" he called. "Show yourself, but keep your wand away."

Rebecca stepped forward into the light from his wand. "Bill, it's Rebecca."

But he didn't lower his wand. She could see the scars on his face from where Fenrir Greyback attacked him from the battle at Hogwarts in June.

"Please, I just want to talk," she said, holding up her hands. "I'll give you my wand."

"I know you can do wandless magic," Bill said, resolute in his stance.

"Ron probably told you," Rebecca said, nodding. "That's why I'm here. I'm sure he's here. I wanted to speak with him."

Bill took a step forward. "You stay away from my brother."

"Bill, stop!"

Ron's voice preceded him through the doorway of the cottage. Soon after, Ron's tall figure sprinted into the darkness. He knocked his brother's wand arm down.

"It's just Becca," he said as he passed Bill. "She helped us break into the Ministry, remember? She's not working for You-Know-Who."

Ron came towards Rebecca without waiting for his brother's approval. He enveloped her in the biggest hug she'd had in a long time. She felt the tears falling down her cheeks at seeing her friend unharmed.

"You don't have any idea how glad I am to see you," Ron said, finally letting her go out of his death grip.

"I have a notion," she said, wiping at the tears on her face. She gave him a genuine grin.

"Come on," Ron said, taking her hand. "Bill, she's coming inside."

Bill didn't look overly pleased, but he had put his wand away.

"Harry trusts her," Ron said. "Dumbledore trusted her. She's still part of the Order, just like you."

Bill's features softened ever so lightly. "Fine. I'm sorry, Becca. It's been a rough year so far."

Rebecca nodded and let herself be led into the cottage by the two Weasleys. Fleur was inside the kitchen, looking as though she'd just put her wand away but trying to hide the fact that she had. Rebecca greeted her with a nod of her head. Bill walked in behind her and Ron and gave his wife a reassuring look.

"Would you like something to drink?" Fleur asked, looking from Bill to Rebecca.

"I'm fine, but thank you," she said. Ron motioned to a seat at the kitchen table, where both of them sat. Ron seemed to enjoy her closeness, and she wouldn't begrudge it of him. She looked back to Bill and Fleur, who remained standing. "My apologies for not congratulating you at your wedding. I was, uh…"

"Come off it, Becca, Snape took you," Ron said. He shrugged at the look she gave him. "Heard it from Bill."

"Remus told us," Bill said, continuing where his brother had left off. "He was furious at you. Still is."

"Why'd you push him out of the way?" Ron asked, furrowing his brows.

"I didn't want Remus to get hurt," she said. "Snape's the best duelist we know of, especially now that Alastor's gone. I hate to say it, but Remus would've been beaten, and it wouldn't have been pretty. It was easier to go with him."

"How'd you get away?" Ron asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"I didn't have any duties tonight," she said. "There was no reason anyone would suspect me going out of the castle. I've never tried to leave before. And as Head Girl, I only share a common room with Draco. He's relatively easy to get past."

Ron snorted.

"I cast a fairly decent Disillusionment Charm, thanks to Alastor's constant vigilance." She gave a faint smile.

There was a silence in the room. Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Are… are you okay?"

Rebecca shrugged. "As good as I can be," she said.

"You spent all summer with the Malfoys," Bill said from his position leaning against the counter. "How was it?"

"They're nice enough," she replied. "I didn't come to any harm there. They bought me new clothes, taught me proper etiquette, showed me how to dance and play the piano. Proper pureblood things." She rolled her eyes. "But I need to talk to you, Ron. I shouldn't stay out long."

"All right, about what?" Ron asked.

"Where are Harry and Hermione?"

"I dunno. When I left, I was angry," Ron said, his shoulders slumping forward as he frowned. "I really regret leaving. I don't know where to even begin looking for them."

"You have to get back," Rebecca said. "And then you have to tell Phineas' portrait where you are so I can help you if I need to."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to get back, Becca," Ron said, throwing his hands up in the air. "We moved all the time. They could be anywhere!"

"Use the Deluminator," Rebecca said gently.

"A fat lot of good that'll do." He took the device out of his pocket.

Rebecca sat forward and put a hand on his wrist, the one that held the Deluminator. "Do you really want to find Hermione and Harry?"

"More than anything. I just want to tell them how sorry I am for everything I said. I was such a prat."

"The Deluminator will bring you back to them, but only once you know within your heart why and how you've wronged them," Rebecca said.

"How d'you know all this?"

"Dumbledore's portrait." She stood. "There are some moments I get with him alone. He and Phineas tell me things that help." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I have to go back."

Ron bolted upright from his chair, moving suddenly towards her. Unthinkingly, she shrunk back from him. Ron stopped where he was immediately and gave her a sad look.

"Becca, you can't just go back," Ron said quietly.

"We know more than you think what's going on in that castle," Bill said. Fleur stepped up beside him and held his hand tightly in her own.

"You are so close with ze Weasleys," Fleur said. "You are almost like a sister-in-law. You could stay 'ere, with us. You would be safe."

Bill put a hand over his wife's and gave a reassuring nod. "We'd be honored to have you."

Rebecca felt herself tearing up at what they were offering her. Protection. They were willing to risk themselves to do that, for her. Rebecca felt truly touched, especially because she had never been close to neither Bill nor Fleur at all. She gave them a smile.

"I really wish I could accept the invitation," she said quietly, her throat nearly closing up from holding back her tears. "It's more than kind of you. But the Dark Lord and Snape are very interested in me. I'm needed at Hogwarts, where I can help the other students get away."

"But what about _you_, Becca?" Ron asked, stepped closer to her and putting his hands on her shoulders.

"I agreed to spy for Dumbledore," she said. "Now I'm working against the man who trained me, the one we all trusted because Dumbledore did. I'm getting closer to being accepted into the Death Eater circle while still protecting the students. They don't even know I'm the one behind it. I'm doing good, just like Dumbledore wanted. I promised I'd protect the other students, even after he was gone. It's not pretty, but it's what I _have_ to do."

Ron pulled her into another hug, this one feeling much more desperate that the first. She clung to him as well, not needing to act at all. She knew the emotions Ron was going through. They were the same ones she had felt when she'd shoved him at Harry and Hermione and watched them Apparate to safety. A sense of aloneness. Emptiness. Forlorn-ness.

The much taller red-head pushed her back so he could look into her eyes. "If we send you back and you get killed, I'll never forgive myself," he said.

Rebecca had never known Ron to cherish their friendship so much that he would make such a statement. It took a while for her to be able to muster up a smile. Things were so tense, and he needed to be reassured.

"It's a good thing I don't plan on dying, then."

"You better not."

He gave her one last hug. Then Rebecca gave both Bill and Fleur one as well to show them her appreciation for their offer was sincere. They escorted her out and watched silently as she Apparated away.

Rebecca put on her Disillusion Charm as soon as she reappeared before the Forbidden Forest. She'd made it all the way up to the gates and inside the grounds. Neither party was paying attention when they ran into one another.

Her eyes widened when the arms wrapped around her, drawing her against a large body. Greyback immediately shoved his nose in Rebecca's hair, drawing in a deep breath. She shivered, trying to stay as still as possible. Struggling would make it worse with him, and if she retaliated against Greyback, she might risk gaining Tom's trust.

"Little snake," he said, his voice low and husky. "I'd know your scent anywhere."

He raised a hand to caress her face, but Rebecca launched a kick at his shin. It landed, but he did not drop her from his grasp. Greyback grunted at the sudden pain, but then retaliated. Long, unwashed fingers with grimy nails grabbed her face and squeezed her cheeks.

"That wasn't very nice," he said, his tone growing darker. "I only wanted to talk to you."

"So talk," Rebecca said, though it came out muffled.

Greyback quickly let go of her cheeks. Blood rushed to fill the space. Rebecca could hear her heart beating so loud that her ears throbbed with each pulse. Greyback was silent, as if listening to it.

He grinned, his teeth as gnarled and ugly as she recalled. There was no fresh blood between them tonight.

"I was coming to see Snape, but you are a much better sight, even when you're under a charm," he said. "You remember how much I like your fear."

Pulling her against his frame once more made Rebecca certain that this was some perverse game to him. She sneered, remaining still as stone.

"Can you feel it, chit?" he asked. "I'm sure you'd know exactly what to do with it. That's all you Mudbloods are good for, anyway."

"I'm _not_ a Mudblood," Rebecca growled, shoving her arms into his stomach as hard as she could.

It worked for a moment. Greyback hadn't been expecting it, so Rebecca managed to gain a few inches in her favor. But his arms found the back of her robes, drew her back to him even as she cried out. One hand forced itself over her mouth after fumbling to find its exact location. His cheek pressed against her own as his other hand grasped hers in a crushing grip.

"None of that, now," he said quietly. Slowly, he made her hand move across her body. Rebecca struggled to move, but he had her trapped.

"Such a shame that Snape got to you first," Greyback said, his voice still quiet. "It was almost me."

He muttered the counter to the Disillusionment Charm. Rebecca closed her eyes as her body reappeared. She tried to use her Occlumency, to act as a shield to what was happening, but his voice broke through her concentration. His hand continued to make her own move about her body, slowly squeezing each breast and moving over her neck and up to her cheek before slowly trailing back down again.

"I wonder… does the Headmaster know you're out on the grounds?" he continued, his breath hot against her ear. She smelled decay and nearly blanched. "Strange we'd meet again out here. I guess you didn't learn your lesson the first time round."

He was silent for a moment, but his hand never stopped.

"You're gonna get me in trouble, little snake," he growled, angry once more. "I might as well kill you now before you go runnin' back to Snape. He's got a problem with sharing, you know."

Rebecca felt her heart rate pick up at his words. She wouldn't put anything past this man, who bit others for sport and because he'd acquired a taste for blood. He would have no problem killing her so as to not become disfavored. She focused quickly even as she felt him moving behind her.

_Stupefy_, she thought with all her might, feeling the magic welling up inside of her.

Greyback's hold on her suddenly was gone, and she turned to see him flying through the air. Without wasting another second, Rebecca ran towards the Entrance Hall, hand darting into her robes for her wand.

The whole run up to the castle, perhaps less than a hundred yards, she thought she heard Greyback's labored breathing behind her. It drove her legs harder, faster into the ground, her robes flying behind her. All she felt was the fear, but she used it to her advantage. It gave her the strength she needed to reach the castle, open up the doors, and run to the grand staircase before Greyback had even made it a third of the way that she had.

To hell with Disillusionment Charms, to hell with any professors or prefects she encountered, and to hell with the Carrows. Rebecca didn't care who she ran into. She dared not look behind her, always feeling the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, as though Greyback was going to grab her at any moment.

Up and up the stairs she ran, taking them two at a time. She was short on breath by the third, but kept pushing herself. Finally, she reached the seventh floor. The Headmaster's office was in sight. The gargoyle saw her coming and immediately jumped out of the way. Rebecca barreled her way past him, her hand finding the knob of the door and wrenching it to one side.

Severus looked up quickly as Rebecca burst through the door, her hair disheveled, brow slick with sweat and mouth open to take in giant gulps of air. She slammed the door shut behind her and rested her back against it before sinking to the floor and beginning to weep hysterically. Her wand fell with a clacking to the floor beside her.

Rebecca brought her hands up to her face, her shoulders heaving as she let out the large sobs she'd only been able to hold back because of her adrenaline. How could she have let him do that to her again? Why did she take so long to react?

Severus found himself moving forward, and soon he was kneeling beside Rebecca. Certainly she wouldn't be able to speak at the moment. What was he to do until then? Reaching out a placing a hand on her shoulder seemed a horrible idea at the moment. He looked her over, but she did not seem to be harmed physically.

"Rebecca," he said, keeping his voice quiet, "whatever has happened can no longer harm you."

The usually composed young witch that he saw before him on a daily basis had completely vanished. He had only seen her like this on one other occasion. And then his brain made the connection. Greyback had been there an hour before to debrief him on the Snatchers' needs. The Dark Lord had sent him in the hopes of having suitable graduating student join the group for next year. But Severus had been convinced that the werewolf had left, and he'd most certainly was glad to have been rid of him.

Rage filled him up. The desire to hex Greyback, to torture him mercilessly before killing him was so strong the metallic taste of blood danced on his tongue. But that was only a memory of what it had been like to kill. He forced himself to calm down. Being angry was not going to help Rebecca at the moment.

"I think I know what happened," he said quietly. "And we do not have to talk about it."

By this point, she seemed to have worn herself out of tears. But she'd curled upon her own body, drawing up her legs to her chest and making herself appear as small as possible. Her face was hidden underneath her hair and shielded by her arms.

"Rebecca," he said again quietly. "Rebecca, look at me."

She had to force herself to do so; he could tell from her jerky movements. Her eyes were already rimmed with red and her cheeks were still streaked from her tears.

"You did what you needed to do," Severus said. "It isn't your fault."

"I had to Stun him," she replied, her voice sounding hoarse. "I just hope it won't undo everything we've worked for."

"Did he threaten you?" Severus asked, trying to keep his voice even and barely succeeding.

Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat. "He said he was going to kill me so you wouldn't get angry at him again. He knows that you don't like other people touching your things."

Severus pursed his lips. She sounded so dejected, but she was still trying to play the role of neutral spy.

Severus nodded. "You did what you had to do," he repeated. "If it gets back to the Dark Lord, he'll understand your reaction."

Rebecca gave a tiny nod, then looked to the floor. A movement caught her eye after a moment of silence in the room. Severus' hand was motionless before her. She met his eyes. Finally, she reached out and took his hand.

Severus stood, helping Rebecca up as well. She felt his fingers squeeze her hand gently before he let go.

"Tell me what happened when you visited Shell Cottage," he said, turning toward the sitting area before the fireplace. He took a seat and looked back to Rebecca.

He appeared to be all business, but Rebecca understood that he was trying to help her the only way that he knew how: to take her mind off of things. To make her feel safe. She stepped forward, taking the seat that had been silently offered to her, and began to tell Severus what had happened while she was off Hogwarts grounds. When her story was done, she remained in the Headmaster's office with Severus for another hour before she felt comfortable enough to make her way back to her dormitory. Even in the silent moments, Rebecca had felt at ease. Their conversation was kept light. Before leaving, she told him what Greyback had said and done. She could see the anger in his eyes and face, but he'd reserved judgment. As she stood to leave, he said something to Rebecca that shocked her.

"We will make him pay for what he's done to you."


	10. Seventh Year, Part 4: Early November

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any characters except Rebecca. I don't plan on making money off of this, either. I just want people to enjoy the story just like I do. :)

**Author's Note: **So begins the adventures of our intrepid heroine into the world of the Death Eaters. One of the scenes is particularly gruesome, but what else do you expect from an initiation ceremony and its aftermath? I hope you all enjoy. I'm going to attempt to get the other chapters up a bit faster. There should only be one or two more parts for her seventh year._  
_

* * *

_Trust Gained, November 1, 1997_

Rebecca entered Malfoy Manor with Severus Saturday evening. Narcissa greeted them in the entryway, offering to show Severus to where Lucius was awaiting them both in the sitting room.

"Our Lord is waiting for you where he usually is, Rebecca," Narcissa said with a nod in the appropriate direction. "He's most anxious to see you."

Severus gave her a look over his shoulder before following Narcissa through the hallway and out of sight. Rebecca took in a deep breath once he was gone, resolving her courage and entering the large room with the piano still centered.

"Rebecca," the familiar voice said, echoing off the mostly emptiness in the room.

Voldemort appeared before her, looking even more snake-like than she remembered. Or it was her eyes playing tricks on her.

"My Lord," she said, bowing low.

His hand was proffered before her, and Rebecca leaned forward to kiss the back of it, acting reverent. He pulled away, and Rebecca looked up, straightening when he bade her to.

"I've discovered something startling about you, Rebecca," Voldemort continued. "The Snatchers have all been talking about what you did to Greyback."

"Have they, my Lord?" she asked, watching him to gauge his reaction and respond accordingly.

It was difficult to tell, but she thought she detected a hint of a smirk.

"Yes, and it's a serious charge," he said, looking her straight in the eye. She dropped her gaze quickly. "You Stunned Fenrir Greyback while he was unarmed."

"Forgive me, my Lord, but if the talk was true, they would have noted that I was unarmed as well," Rebecca said, keeping her head bowed. Her eyes flicked up to meet his suddenly. "And I was also in an undesired position."

"Greyback does have a thing for pretty young women," Voldemort said. "I would not put it past him to be led astray, even when a certain pretty young woman does not belong to him."

Rebecca lowered her gaze once more, feeling disgusted that she was being discussed merely as an object. But that was how men like Tom, like Greyback, operated. Outwardly, she looked sheepish, humbled.

"You are not to be punished, Rebecca," Voldemort said. "I saw through Greyback's lies, and he was punished accordingly for it. He should merely be thankful that I was the one to punish him and not Severus." He gave a wicked smile. "Severus has taken quite the shine to you, Rebecca, and I understand why."

He reached out to grasp her chin, though his touch was gentle compared to how Greyback had manhandled her. Voldemort made her look up at him.

"You Stunned a full-grown wizard, a werewolf, without the use of words or a wand," Voldemort said. "At your age, that is to be commended. There aren't many out there who are like you, Rebecca. Both Severus and I realize that. And that is why I am glad he is pleased with you."

"My Lord?" she asked, infusing her voice with confusion.

"In time, Rebecca, all will be answered," he replied, pulling away from her.

His skin was rough, but not like any she had encountered before. It felt like a snake's skin. She trembled a bit at the realization. His back was still turned, and she waited for his next move.

"Severus tells me your potion is nearly complete."

Rebecca gave a nod. "Yes, my Lord."

"Do you believe it ready?"

"I make nothing that I'm uncertain of, my Lord," Rebecca answered with a smile. "I deem it ready, so it is."

A slow smile crept onto Voldemort's face. "Then you will be pleased to know that I intend to showcase your talents to the rest of the Death Eaters next weekend," he said. "Should your potion pass the test, I will grant you the highest favor anyone could ask for."

Rebecca felt her nervousness swell up inside of her. She allowed herself to grin.

"I see that you have been anticipating this moment," Voldemort said.

"Yes, my Lord, since I was first brought to you earlier in the summer," she said, her voice low.

Voldemort took a step towards her, closing the gap between them to just a few inches. Rebecca tried her hardest not to flinch, which she inevitably did, though just slightly. Nothing went unnoticed by him.

"I believe that you will make one of the best Death Eaters to have ever lived," Voldemort said slowly.

"I won't disappoint you, my Lord," Rebecca said.

"I know that you won't."

He turned from her, retreating to the shadowy parts of the large room. Somewhere, Rebecca knew Nagini was lying in wait. All Voldemort had to do was say the command, and she would destroy and eat whatever he wanted her to. Just like Charity Burbage.

Rebecca felt her stomach sinking at that thought. Luckily, he was too far from her to notice any changes in her facial expression.

"You are dismissed, Rebecca," he said, his voice echoing like it had when she'd first entered the room. "Make certain your potion is a success."

She left the room quickly, leaving its silence gratefully. With the help of a house elf, she found Severus, Narcissa, and Lucius in the sitting room. The Malfoys greeted her joyously, while Severus watched her carefully.

"Please sit, Rebecca," Narcissa said, motioning to the chair beside her. "We haven't seen you in so long."

"What did our Lord want with you, Rebecca?" Severus asked, his tone clipped.

Rebecca took the tea Narcissa was offering her. The cup shook slightly upon its dish in her hands, so she was forced to place it on the table beside her chair so they wouldn't stare too openly at her.

"Our Lord wishes for me to have my potion ready for this coming weekend," she said quietly. "If it is successful, I will receive my Dark Mark."

She looked up into Severus' eyes and saw the concern there. But he gave a hint of a smile.

"Very good work," he said.

Narcissa and Lucius shared a similar fear in their eyes. But they made much more noise than Severus would have, regardless of being in the character of Death Eater or not. The rest of their talk was upon Rebecca, and how splendid it was to have another family member taking on an important role for their Lord. Rebecca was glad to leave, though she knew the talk was exactly that. Underneath, Narcissa and Lucius feared for her as much as Severus did, as much as Harry, Ron, and Hermione did. But there was nothing that they could do without bringing themselves under scrutiny. And Rebecca found that she did not want them to die, as nasty as they had been in the previous years. She knew them differently than others did.

She thought upon this as she and Severus made their way back up to the castle. When they reached his office, Severus turned to her and bid her sit once more in front of the fireplace. Rebecca did. He sat across from her and did not speak for a long time, though he was staring at her almost the entirety of his silence.

Rebecca did not fidget. His gaze wasn't uncomfortable. Clearly, he wanted to speak, but he had to think of the words.

"I'm not afraid," she said finally.

"Then you had best get rid of those Gryffindor sentiments," Severus muttered. "They will not help you when you're taking the Mark."

Rebecca wanted to sigh, but she resisted.

"The Dark Mark is the most painful and one of the most powerful pieces of magic in existence," he said, his voice low and fast. "You would do well to be afraid of it."

Rebecca looked down, averting her gaze from his. Truly what she had said had been the exact wrong thing. She should have known better. Severus had gone to go through the ceremony. But when he did it, he had believed and had no one to turn to afterward.

"The ceremony generally requires a sexual display between the sponsor and the new inductee," he continued. "However, the Dark Lord is aware that I have certain performance anxieties. We won't be made to do that particular display, but we will be required to do another."

She paused. "What?"

"We must pass the blood, which is a part of the ceremony, between each other. A kiss," he said. "However a deep one." He watched her, trying to see her reaction. But there was none. "This we cannot create a memory of. We cannot fool all of them, especially the Dark Lord. You cannot pull away."

"I won't," Rebecca said. "I can do this."

Severus watched her for a long time before he continued. He went into detail about the ceremony, leaving out the details of his own induction. She did not need to hear such things. If she claimed to be unafraid, let her keep it until that moment. She could thrive off of her adrenaline, just as she had done to get away from Greyback. Rebecca listened intently, taking copious notes inside her head. Finally, she was dismissed.

As she stood to leave, Severus' voice stopped her.

"Rebecca."

She turned around to look at him. He was still sitting in his chair, looking at war with himself at about speaking. Finally, resolve crossed his face.

"Albus always told me that I had issues giving praise when it was warranted," he said. "But I want you to understand that, despite the fact that I did not wish this fate upon you, I am proud of what you've accomplished."

Rebecca stared, dumbfounded. "Thank you, Severus." She paused. "But you should know that I wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

"Don't remind me," he growled, standing suddenly and turning from her.

She watched him disappear into his library before she exited the office.

* * *

_Mark Received and its Aftermath, November 8, 1997_

It was that fateful Friday. Rebecca had been close to the edge all day. She couldn't hide it from Draco, nor any of the other Slytherins whose parents were Death Eaters. She would be getting her Dark Mark tonight, firmly putting her into a position of power amongst Voldemort's Inner Circle.

But she was ever-passive on the outside, going about her business as if it were any other day. Finally, the day was almost over. She was preparing herself in her dorm room before dinner, gathering her things so it would be easy to find for whatever house elf would get sent down to her quarters later. Once she was done, she descended into the common room she and Draco shared. He was waiting for her.

"Will you be back tonight?" he asked.

It was one of few times Draco had ever looked openly concerned.

"The Headmaster has requested that you not expect me back this weekend," Rebecca said quietly, almost unable to form the words without her voice shaking.

"The _entire_ weekend?"

He approached her quickly.

"Draco, stop," Rebecca said firmly.

He did, but he shook his head. "I don't know what you're doing, Rebecca," he told her. "But I wish you could tell me. This doesn't seem right, this whole thing."

"I know, but this is what's happening. You're going to have to keep your mouth shut, Draco, lest _our Lord_ suspect you of disloyalty."

She gave him a pressing look at the emphasized words. It made him pause and look at her. Something clicked, then, for Draco.

"Moreover, the Headmaster will take good care of me," Rebecca continued.

"I would hope so."

That voice was reserved for the acting part of Draco. It was subtle, but Rebecca had learned to tell the difference. He understood. Sometimes it was good to have quick-witted friends.

"Let's get you to dinner," Draco said, walking toward their entrance. "You'll need your strength for tonight. You'll do the Black family proud- both my mother and father say so."

"Tell them I said thank you," Rebecca said, giving him a small smile.

The rest was left unsaid: because I won't be able to, not for a while.

Dinner was short and uninteresting. The Slytherins watched her like carrion birds waiting for their prey to die. They looked for any false moves in her carefully built persona. But they would find none.

Severus surveyed the Slytherins from the staff table at the front of the Great Hall. He had told Rebecca to sit closer to the front of the Hall; it would not seem odd for him to tell her to do so. It was much easier to keep an eye on what was his from there, to make certain no one was bothering her. But they all waited for him to not pay close enough attention to her. He didn't take his eyes off their table for a second. Once he was finished, he locked eyes with her.

No one else could see the fear that he saw. It was far in the depths of her mind, remembering two years ago to the day today. She was replaying the time she received the first Marks, carved into her skin by blade.

She stood, too, following his lead. The Hall went almost silent as the Slytherins watched the Headmaster leave out the staff exit. Rebecca turned to walk calmly out the Great Hall's exit.

"Good luck," she heard Draco whisper to her as she strode past him.

She was soon at the entrance to the Headmaster's office just as he was arriving. He appraised her.

"I know you're afraid."

"I can't help it."

She nearly growled at him. This took him aback for a moment, as she never took her anger out on him unless he was the cause of it. Without another word, he opened the door and took her by the shoulder, pulling her inside his office after him.

Once the door was shut and warded did he turn to her. She looked composed, calm, quiet, but he knew better.

"You have five minutes to get your thoughts in check," he said, using his professorial voice.

"I don't need a lecture right now, Severus," she said firmly. "I'll be fine."

He stepped toward her, invading her space. It had been a long time since she had backed away from him in fear; she had culled those memories quite a while ago, and it was clear he could no longer intimidate her.

"Everything rides upon you succeeding tonight," he said, barely moving his lips. "You must not show that you are in pain when you receive the Mark. To do so shows that you are weak and unworthy. You cannot allow the fear to overtake you, or you will feel the pain. You must use your Occlumency as best as you can to hide your mind from what you are feeling when you take the Mark."

"Yes, and that is after the first part of the ceremony—"

"Which I must perform with you, as your representative," Severus said, interrupting her. "You remember the lines you must say?"

"Of course," she said, relaxing somewhat. "It's the same crazy ego-feeding piece Tom likes so much."

She paused, and he waited. She had a question.

"You're certain Tom won't make you…?"

"As I've informed you, he is aware that I have difficulties performing in group settings," Severus said, backing away from her. There was no need to be so close when discussing such personal matters. "In any case, I have taken a potion to prevent any unwanted reactions should they attempt to _arise_."

"Ah."

Well, at least that part she wouldn't have to worry about.

"We must go," Severus said after a glance at the clock. "Gather the potion. Leave your notes here. Should he wish to see them, you may request a private audience with him. Let no one see your notes. They would steal them if given the chance."

Rebecca had heard all of this before, but allowed his voice and words to comfort her. Comfort. That was something she needed right now, as they left the castle and moved outside the wards. It was time to Apparate once again, and she clutched to Severus' robes as if her life depended upon it.

Soon, they were inside the Great Hall at Malfoy Manor. The table and chairs had been pushed to the sides, leaving a large area cleared out for everyone. The Death Eaters were wearing their masks and cloaks, but Rebecca and Severus had been told to come without them. At these ceremonies, the new "recruits" and their representative had to be the ones easily differentiated from the group. If one failed, they both suffered.

Voldemort stood out amongst them all, pale features shining in a sea of black robes. Severus and she knelt before him.

"Rise," Voldemort said, motioning with his arms. "Bring me your potion, Rebecca."

Both stood, and Rebecca moved forward as she was told. Lowering her head, she handed Voldemort the vial with the dose of her new potion.

Voldemort had excelled in Potions, though not as much as he had, of course, in the Dark Arts. He uncorked the vial and sniffed it. The potion had little aroma. It was a semi-translucent green color, with white particles clustered together that looked like tiny clouds floating about it.

"What do you call this potion?" he asked.

"Venenum of Animus," Rebecca said, standing as tall as she could before him.

Voldemort chuckled. "Potion of the Soul. Appropriate for a potion that will turn one into one's Animagus form."

Rebecca nodded in agreement. The crowd of Death Eaters began whispering, moving about a little.

"Silence!" Voldemort called, and he was obeyed immediately. He looked back to Rebecca. "And how long does it last?"

"As long as I want," Rebecca said. "It all depends upon the dose one consumes. That amount will allow someone to turn into their Animagus form for a minute before wearing off."

"Excellent," Voldemort said. He looked about at the crowd.

Every Death Eater was completely still. Finally, Voldemort's eyes settled upon a tall, lanky man.

"Lucius, step forward."

Rebecca remained passive as Lucius walked towards them. She knew that her potion would work, and it had no ill side-effects. Voldemort was testing her, and that was fine.

"Lucius, were you ever able to cast a Patronus Charm?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And what was your Patronus?"

"A cobra, my Lord."

Voldemort grinned, an eerie expression. "Well, Lucius, you may yet redeem yourself."

He held the vial out to the Malfoy, who took it with a slightly shaking hand. He cast a glance at Rebecca, who watched neutrally. He seemed reassured by her gaze, and drank it quickly.

He dropped the vial as he sunk to the floor. Lucius grew longer, lankier, and his skin was soon replaced with scales. Very quickly, Lucius sat up in his cobra form; the back and front of his hood sported two spots each of brilliant white-blond, just as his hair was. He opened his mouth, baring his teeth to the Death Eaters present. They were completely silent and still. Rebecca smirked triumphantly.

Voldemort observed her and how the others were reacting to her. He did not care what his Death Eaters thought of her, nor if they wanted her in his Inner Circle. It was his decision to make, and she had proven herself more than worthy of his time and energy with this potion, which she had created within two months. Even Severus appeared impressed.

"Very good, Rebecca. Very good, indeed," Voldemort said.

Lucius was having too much fun slithering among his cohorts.

"Your minute is up, Lucius," Voldemort said.

The cobra sat up, soon changing back into his human form, Death Eater mask and all.

"How do you fair?"

"Very well, my Lord," Lucius replied. "I feel completely normal."

Voldemort nodded and turned to Rebecca.

"My faithful followers," Voldemort said, finally looking back to the crowd, "we have a new member to be Marked tonight."

Surprisingly, most of the crowd cheered. Perhaps, Rebecca surmised, they knew it would be better not to be so forthright with their displeasure. Perhaps they were afraid of her power, especially once she was to be Marked.

But there was one person who was not cheering. She stood in the front, removing her mask, face contorted with rage.

Rebecca couldn't help but meet Bellatrix's gaze. _Do it_, Rebecca thought.

That was enough. Bellatrix stormed towards Rebecca, Severus, and Voldemort. Rebecca did not move. Severus placed himself even with her, showing his silent support even now.

"My Lord, this Mudblood has no place among us," Bellatrix said, looking as though she was barely keeping her anger in check. "She is nothing more than a whore! Snape's whore, no less! As I've told you many times, my Lord, you cannot trust him. He is not on your side."

"And time and again, Bellatrix, Severus proves you otherwise," Voldemort said, sounding bored with the same argument. "I do not understand what you have against your relative, Bella. I thought you would be pleased another member of the Black family line was being inducted."

"She is no family of mine," Bellatrix said, turning and spitting on Rebecca.

Rebecca had no time to act as the saliva flew at her. It hit her on the left cheek. She had not even moved when Severus had stepped in front of her, beginning to draw his wand. Bellatrix reached for her own as well.

Voldemort held up his hands, and both of them stopped where they were. Rebecca wiped the spit from her cheek with her robe, not daring to draw her wand in the tense air.

The Dark Lord had a decision to make. It was clear Bellatrix would never feel any sort of kinship towards the girl, despite their blood relation. However, he could not have Bellatrix, one of his most loyal and powerful Death Eaters, be at odds with his rising protégé. The only way to settle this was with a duel.

But who would Bellatrix fight?

Voldemort's eyes fell upon Severus, who looked very ready to curse Bellatrix for the assault on his fiancée-to-be. Perhaps he would go too far. And though Bellatrix was one of his best duelist, Severus could beat her within moments.

Rebecca, on the other hand… Voldemort turned his attention to the girl. Since she was the target, it would be most appropriate should she defend herself and her honor. If Rebecca fought Bellatrix and won, there would be very few left among his followers who would want to challenge Rebecca afterward. But if Rebecca were to lose… She would not lose. He had seen the way she fought. She had also wrenched Bellatrix's knife from her hands by force. Voldemort knew that behind Rebecca's calm exterior was a ruthlessness that could rival Bellatrix's madness.

"Rebecca," Voldemort said, almost kindly. Her attention was immediately upon him. "The only way I see to resolve this matter is for you to duel Bellatrix. There will be no need for seconds, as this is not to the death."

He eyed Bellatrix, making certain that she understood this to be an order, not a request. Both women nodded.

"I trust no one will see fit to interfere…"

Voldemort's gaze shot to Severus, who took a step back from Rebecca. He appeared collected on the outside, but the Dark Lord could see the strain in his eyes.

With a wave of his hand, the Death Eaters took a few steps back. Lucius made his way to stand behind Severus, as if he would be able to aid Rebecca in some way by doing so. Both Lucius and Severus knew that to interrupt would mean punishment, and neither longed for such a thing.

Rebecca drew her wand slowly, and the memory of her receiving it came to mind. "_Alder wood with a dragon heartstring core, ten and a half inches, fairly firm. Even though you're a muggleborn, young lady, I expect with a wand like that you will do great things."_ Alder trees and their wood were associated with intelligence and mental prowess, as well as strength. Rebecca knew that she at least had intelligence over Bellatrix Lestrange, who now stood before her. The older woman shifted back and forth on her feet, unwilling to hold still at the prospect of a duel.

The girl only hoped she could count on the strength of her magic to pull her through this.

"Rebecca has the right of the first strike," Voldemort said suddenly, "since she was assaulted."

Bellatrix did not seem disappointed.

Rebecca thought through her mental reserves, as if her mind were a library of spells. In essence, it was. Nothing exciting came to mind. She couldn't just Stun Bellatrix- it would make her look weak. She had to come up with something creative, preferably something that would hurt.

"_Confringo_," Rebecca said quietly, her wand pointing just at Bellatrix's feet.

At her movement, Bellatrix leaped out of the way. The ground where she had stood erupted into flames, which, having nothing to fuel them, quickly went out.

Bellatrix thrust her wand at Rebecca, saying nothing. Silently, too, Rebecca put up a Shield Charm, which protected her from whatever curse Bellatrix had just thrown at her.

"The Mudblood _can_ do non-verbals," Bellatrix said in a chiding voice.

Rebecca sneered. This had been what she waited for, a chance to fight Sirius's murderer. But she couldn't look too pleased at the prospect of harming what was a relative of hers and a fellow Death Eater.

The two women exchanged hexes and curses for a few more moments. None of them landed due to their reflexes. Rebecca knew that the only way to come close to ending this duel would either be Unforgiveables or hand-to-hand combat. She wouldn't come close to the latter unless she lost her wand.

"Come now, Mudblood, don't be afraid!" Bellatrix cried.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "I'm no Mudblood."

Rebecca's _Silencio_ hit Bellatrix square in the face, while the Death Eater was too busy cackling to pay attention to her opponent.

"Your problem is you think too little of whom you duel," Rebecca said, taking a step towards her opponent.

Bellatrix was enraged. Somehow, Rebecca knew that word just didn't peg down how the other witch was feeling at the moment. Her face was full of loathing. Bellatrix raised her wand and cast two spells at Rebecca, one right after the next, sneering.

Rebecca felt the second spell hit her. She went down, unable to get out of its way. She managed to hold onto her wand. The spell was not as powerful as it could have been, as her Shield Charm had still been partially up. Her legs were harder to move, her arms weighed down. Bellatrix approached her quickly, knocking Rebecca's wand from her hand.

There was a glint as the light caught the blade of the Black knife, which Bellatrix now drew from her robes. Now it was Rebecca's turn to laugh. A heavy silence fell over the duelists and the watching Death Eaters.

Voldemort considered what Rebecca had told him about the Black knife. Since it had been in the girl's possession, won directly from Bellatrix's hand, the girl thought the knife would not harm her. Well, now was the time to see if the girl's knowledge proved solid.

He cast a harsh glance at Severus, who had taken half a step towards the fighters. His right-hand man's eyes looked intent, as though he could will harm to come to Bellatrix. At least Voldemort was certain of the bond between Severus and what he hoped would become his new left-hand.

Bellatrix glared down at Rebecca, angry that the girl dared to laugh in her face. Quickly, she removed the spell from herself.

"You will _not_ laugh at me!"

Bellatrix pulled back her fist, the one holding the hilt of the knife, and swung it forward to connect with the side of Rebecca's face.

With a tremendous effort, Rebecca protected her cheek with her forearm. It felt as though she had used the majority of her strength in that one move. While she had surprised Bellatrix, Rebecca quickly muttered the incantation to remove the Body-Bind from her.

Bellatrix screamed as Rebecca blocked her punch. She withdrew her hand as the girl muttered something, but Bellatrix didn't care what the Mudblood had to say. She brought the knife down with all her strength, aiming for the girl's right shoulder.

Suddenly, there was only pain. Rebecca gave a sudden cry as the knife parted her skin and slid through muscle and tendon. She could feel the blood beginning to pool around the wound. After a moment, she thought she had been wrong. The knife was able to harm her.

But the poison did not release. It recognized her blood.

"You will _never_ be worthy of the Dark Mark, filthy Mudblood whore," Bellatrix hissed, letting go of the hilt to get a better grip on her wand.

Rebecca remembered the look on Sirius's face as he was hit with the Killing Curse. She saw how he fell back, so gracefully. She heard Bellatrix laughing crazily, rejoicing in her cousin's death. Rebecca heard Neville's voice talking about his parents' deaths, how much Bellatrix enjoyed harming others. She knew that was what would happen if she lay on the ground much longer. The Death Eater loved the Cruciatus.

With the memory of Sirius and Neville setting every nerve and muscle aflame, Rebecca gathered enough strength to kick Bellatrix off of her. She shrieked, her wand arm flailing upward.

The Slytherin began standing as soon as Bellatrix's weight lifted from her. She glanced around for her wand, could not find it. She knew that she needed to get Bellatrix's wand from her.

Uncaring about the knife embedded in her arm (as she wasn't bleeding much and the poison wasn't pumping into her system), she took the two steps separating her and Bellatrix. The Death Eater appeared stunned as she carelessly raised her wand towards Rebecca's face. She had hit her head on the stone ground of the Malfoy Great Hall.

Rebecca held Bellatrix's arm in place with her foot as her good hand pried the wand from the now whimpering woman. From the sounds she made, it seemed as though Bellatrix was trying to scream, but she lacked the wherewithal to do so.

With the wand securely in her grasp, Rebecca took her foot from Bellatrix's arm and aimed at her heart.

Without hesitation, she cried, "_Crucio_!"

At that moment, she couldn't have meant another person more harm than she did Bellatrix Lestrange. So many thoughts flew before her eyes, so many newspaper clippings about the woman's cruelty, Neville's words, Sirius' face. She let the curse carry on for many solid moments before allowing the woman to rest.

"I am _not_ a Mudblood," Rebecca said, the wound in her arm registering its pain. She grimaced, managing to make it appear as a sneer.

Bellatrix's chest puffed in and out quickly, though it sounded as though her lungs could barely fill with any air.

"_Crucio_!" Rebecca called again.

She realized she would kill the Death Eater this way if given a chance. That made her stop the curse, but she did not drop the wand or her stance. She remained standing over Bellatrix, who could barely move. Clearly, though the witch had an affinity for the curse, she had not been under its influence in a very long time.

Voldemort saw Rebecca raise Bellatrix's wand once more.

"Enough," he said, his voice unperturbed.

His Death Eaters had seen now what he saw in the girl, what he knew she was capable of. He saw right through her, knew Rebecca would kill if given the chance. If that was what Voldemort wanted.

Rebecca turned and dropped to one knee as soon as the voice hit her ears. She reinforced her Occlumency shields. Her shoulder throbbed with pain, and she did her best to ignore it.

Severus's face relaxed for the first time since the duel had begun. He had little time to feel relief as the Dark Lord began approaching Rebecca and Bellatrix. A white, bony hand touched the bleeding shoulder; the other gripped the hilt of the blade. Without a spoken word or the use of his wand, Voldemort pulled out the Black family knife, healing the muscles and tendons as he went. Once the blade was in his hand, he cleaned Rebecca's robes of blood.

Rebecca glanced up at him reverently. "Thank you, my Lord," she whispered.

He held the knife out to her. Silently, she took it. His hand remained open. Understanding, Rebecca placed Bellatrix's wand carefully into Voldemort's hand.

"Your wand is only feet from Severus," the Dark Lord spoke, his voice low. "Retrieve it and stand by him."

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you."

Rebecca did as she was told, favoring her right shoulder slightly. She stowed the Black dagger in her robes as she stood beside Severus. Suddenly, she felt his hand on the small of her back. Rebecca dared to glance at him. He gave her a very slight nod of his head before looking towards the Dark Lord, just as every single Death Eater in the room did.

"Get up, Bella," Voldemort said.

"My... my Lord," she whimpered.

"Rodolphus, retrieve your wife," Voldemort called. This was immediately done, and with no further talking.

"What just occurred has perhaps shown you all what Rebecca Felan is capable of," Voldemort said. "You would be wise to respect her as the newest member of the Inner Circle that she is. Rebecca, Severus, step forward."

Severus took Rebecca's arm and guided her forward, to the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters closed ranks and formed a circle that left only a five foot radius between the three within the circle and any of the Death Eaters on the outer part. This was necessary to create the atmosphere for the ceremony.

Severus bowed his head, then said, "I humbly present Rebecca Michelle Felan for induction into the Inner Circle of the esteemed followers of the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters."

Voldemort nodded once. "Rebecca Felan's presentation into the Inner Circle has been accepted," he said. "Her application has not been found wanting. We may proceed with the rest of the ceremony."

From within his robes he drew a long, ceremonial dagger. Rebecca sighed in her head, wondering how many times that dagger had been used before and hoped that she would be the last whose blood it took. That, and she was just tired of getting stabbed. Voldemort raised it high over his head.

"Rebecca, kneel," he said.

Rebecca did so, her movements slow and calculated. She knelt on one knee before Tom, her head bowed, her back rigid. Voldemort brought the dagger to rest upon her right shoulder. The blade felt cold, even through her robes.

"Rebecca Felan, you are about to be inducted into the Inner Circle of the Death Eaters of the Dark Lord," Voldemort said in almost a chant-like voice.

"I understand, my Lord," she replied, robot-like.

"Do you swear an oath of fealty to only me?"

"I swear my wand, my will and life to you, my Lord," Rebecca said, keeping her head down.

Voldemort moved the blade to the left shoulder.

"Once you are in the Inner Circle, Rebecca Felan, there is no turning from me," Voldemort continued.

"I understand, my Lord," Rebecca said.

"Do you swear an oath of allegiance to only me? To do as you are bid until you are no longer needed? To have our oath be severed only by your death?"

"I swear with my wand, my will, and my life, my Lord," Rebecca said. She had nearly choked the words out, but had managed her neutral tone only just.

Voldemort removed the blade and bid her step back. Then he turned to Severus.

"Severus, kneel," he said.

Once he had, Voldemort placed the blade on his right shoulder.

"Do you, Severus Snape, a member of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle, sponsor Rebecca Felan into this most esteemed of circles?"

"I do, my Lord."

"Do you, Severus Snape, swear by Rebecca Felan's oath of fealty to myself and my wishes?"

"I do, my Lord."

"Do you acknowledge that should she fail in her endeavors, you will receive equal punishment alongside her?"

"I understand, my Lord."

Rebecca felt as though everything stopped. Severus had not informed her of this part of the ceremony. He was to be punished if she should fail? She swallowed the lump that had developed in her throat, knowing that she would need to speak soon, but not certain if she could.

"Remain kneeling," Voldemort said. He took a step away, waving his hand.

Rebecca could not move. To do so would be to forfeit the ceremony. She would have words with Severus about his lack of full disclosure later… if she was able to.

Peter Pettigrew scampered forward, carrying an old, golden chalice towards the Dark Lord. With a bit of direction, Wormtail held the chalice between Severus and Rebecca.

Voldemort turned back to them. "Severus, your hand."

His follower was quick to present the palm of his hand. The Dark Lord held onto his wrist, gripping tightly, and pressed the blade into the skin until the first drop of blood appeared. Severus's face remained unmoving, even as Voldemort slid the knife across the length of his palm. He placed Severus's hand directly over the chalice.

"Rebecca, your hand."

She was just as quick with her hand, palm up. She did just as Severus had told her to do: hide behind her Occlumency shields as the pain ripped through her nerves. Her breathing didn't even change. She would be glad when the day would come when she didn't have to be stabbed or cut by anymore daggers.

Voldemort placed the dagger back into his robes so both of his hands would be free. He held Severus's wrist in one hand, Rebecca's in the other.

"Blood for blood," the Dark Lord said.

With the chalice hovering below the outstretched appendages, Voldemort pressed their palms together. The blood that had begun pooling in their hands while they waited began to drip into the chalice. What blood belonged to whom no one could say.

They remained that way for a minute, until the chalice was a quarter of the way full. Rebecca felt drained, but remained determined not to show it. She slipped out from behind her Occlumency shields in order to be certain she did not screw up the rest of the ceremony.

Wormtail held the chalice while Voldemort healed Rebecca and Severus's hands with a flick of his wrist. Then, the Dark Lord took the chalice and waited for Peter to scurry back to the other waiting Death Eaters.

Voldemort turned to Severus. "By this blood, you will be re-bound to me," he said. "By this blood, Severus Snape, you acknowledge your duties as a member of this esteemed Inner Circle and as sponsor to Rebecca Felan. Drink."

He handed the chalice to Severus, who seemed to take no notice of the smell as he drank down exactly half of the contents. He gave the chalice back to the Dark Lord, who then turned to Rebecca. She nearly felt her throat close up.

"By this blood, you will be bound to me," Voldemort said. "By this blood, you will be admitted into the esteemed Inner Circle. By this blood, you acknowledge your new duties as a member of this esteemed Inner Circle. Drink."

She took the chalice from him. She could not bear to drink it slowly and calmly, as Severus had done. Instead, she tilted her head back and filled her mouth as much as she could. She swallowed once, twice, and then the chalice was empty. Bowing her head, Rebecca handed the chalice back to the Dark Lord, who gave her a look of pride. She was so eager to please him, he thought.

"You may both rise," Voldemort said. He turned as Severus and Rebecca did so, handing the chalice off to Wormtail, who stood directly behind him among the Death Eaters. "Rebecca, come forward."

She did so, taking a step away from Severus. She felt the metallic taste lingering in her mouth. Carefully, she steadied her breathing and prepared herself for the worst part of the ceremony.

"Your left arm," Voldemort said, holding out his hand.

Rebecca produced her hand, and he grasped it with his own, pushing her sleeve up to expose her inner forearm, where there was already a scarred Dark Mark.

"This Mark that you have is a false one," he told her. "Your true Mark will bring you closer to me, closer to the truth."

"I understand, my Lord," Rebecca said. "Thank you."

What a psycho, she couldn't help but think, though nothing on her face gave it away. She slipped, once more, behind her Occlumency shield. Hopefully, it would help her with the pain.

Voldemort raised his wand, then brought it down into the very center of her scarred Mark. He spoke no words, then began chanting under his breath before stopping. Suddenly, pain began to shoot through the nerves of her arms and spread through her body. At first, it was only uncomfortable. Rebecca soon began struggling not to show any of the pain that she was clearly feeling. She kept her face impassive, staring into the shallow, red eyes of Tom. She did not struggle or squirm or move in any fashion.

Finally, the pain stopped. If she had felt drained before, now she felt dead on her feet. Only through sheer willpower did she remain standing. Voldemort took her wrist and turned her to face the awaiting Death Eaters. He exposed her inner left forearm.

"Greet your newest member!" he cried.

There was a cheering. The sound bounced around in Rebecca's mind. Her Occlumency hadn't protected her at all, it felt like. She felt rattled, shaky, and wanted to vomit. The cheering lasted only a moment before Voldemort called for silence. He lowered Rebecca's arm and looked past her and to Severus.

"Severus," he said, beckoning to the man, "step forward and complete the ceremony."

Tom was going to hand her to Severus, as if this were a wedding ceremony, Rebecca realized through her haze. She looked to Severus. Luckily, instead of the sexual display that was normally supposed to happen between the sponsor and his protégé was not going to occur here. However, bodily fluids had to be exchanged in order to complete the Dark Mark ceremony. Tom allowed for them to kiss, but they had to make it passionate and last long enough that the blood exchange would be completed. On top of her other, sick feelings, Rebecca suddenly felt anxious. There was so much she was hiding from him, so much that had been put on the line. So much that could still be discovered and blamed upon him. How could she live with herself if it was because of her that he was punished or killed?

But she couldn't think any longer. Her head was pounding.

Voldemort passed Rebecca to Severus, awaiting the ceremony to be completed. Once it was, Rebecca would be a full member of his Inner Circle. And then he could set his plans into motion.

"Thank you, my Lord," Severus said, taking Rebecca gently from the other man's grasp.

She all but fell into him, though she did so subtly. They were so close, as they needed to be. Her breaths were gaining speed, but not depth. That was not good. This would need to be quick.

"I can't stand," she murmured.

"I will help you," he whispered, bringing a hand to rest on her neck as the other cradled her waist. She leaned into him, then.

They were a hair's breadth from one another now. Her green eyes looked upon his face, flicking from one area to the next rapidly. Finally, they settled on his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. His lips touched hers as his mouth moved to form the words. She shivered, but he could not tell from what.

Before waiting any longer and risking any wrath from the Dark Lord (though their exchange had taken ten seconds at most), Severus closed the distance between them. He made sure his lips were lax, at first, just pressing against her own so she would not panic.

Rebecca took in a breath so sharply that it made a quiet hissing sound. His lips were soft against her own. She felt her head clear for a moment. Remembering who she was supposed to be, the Rebecca that these Death Eaters wanted to see, she brought her hand up to rest against the back of Severus's head. She gripped his hair in what she hoped to be a possessive manner, though she made sure not to hurt him. She opened her mouth slightly to allow him entrance. This kiss couldn't be chaste.

Severus was surprised by her reactions, but didn't have time to contemplate them. He slid his tongue between her lips, opening her mouth further to him. She pressed her tongue against his, moving it experimentally. He could taste the blood being circled between them. It would have been enough to make him wretch, had he not discovered his body wanted to react to her, despite the potion he had taken.

Another thing he didn't have time to think about now.

He gripped her body to his, forcing her to make a noise that sounded enough like a moan of longing to the others. An idea struck him.

He retracted his tongue quickly and took her bottom lip into his mouth. She didn't have time to make any sort of noises before his teeth bit into her skin. She gasped, pulling away slightly to look at him. He managed a half-smug look. He licked the blood from her lip.

Rebecca was stunned as he licked her bleeding lip. All she could think to do was to pull him to her again. That would look natural, she decided, would be what the others wanted to see.

"The ceremony is complete!" the Dark Lord suddenly called, stopping Rebecca in her spot.

Suddenly, she felt a dark weight fall upon her, and her sick feeling came rushing back to her. If it wasn't for Severus holding her up, she would have fallen.

Severus maneuvered them both so they could face the Dark Lord and bow. He aided Rebecca in standing once more, though he made it look as though she could on her own.

"Severus, take your betrothed home for the rest she needs," Voldemort continued. "The Dark Mark is a draining thing at first, but soon she will know its benefits, and come to love it."

"Thank you, my Lord," Rebecca said, putting the last bit of her strength into her voice, "I already love it."

"Thank you, my Lord," Severus echoed, bowing his head once more.

It was easy for Rebecca to keep her arms around him. The others would think her lusty for him. Perhaps they would pity her for being with him, he who was unable to "perform" under pressure. But those were not the proper thoughts now. He had to get her back to Hogwarts before she succumbed to the terrible side-effects of the Mark.

Rebecca was vaguely aware that he picked her up as they reached the soil outside of the Malfoy gates. They Apparated, and her head swam. She let her cheek rest against his chest, trying to breathe evenly.

Severus realized the only time he was more afraid for Rebecca was the night she had been taken. Even now, his fear for what might happen was quickly growing.

Finally, they were back in the Headmaster's office. Albus peered down at them from his portrait.

"Oh, Rebecca…"

"I'm okay, Albus."

"Save your strength," Severus told her harshly. He gave Albus' portrait a look before turning to the back of the office. Behind a bookshelf a staircase was hidden. Severus started up the stairs, Rebecca's weight not holding him back much.

She realized they were going somewhere she had not seen before. She raised her head in question.

"It is easier to take you to my quarters so you may know what they look like should we need to continue creating memories," Severus said quickly.

His quarters were very plain. Clearly, they had not looked this way when Albus lived here, but Rebecca knew Severus couldn't stand the reminder. That was probably why he changed everything to a stock black and gray. He set her down carefully in a chair.

"Dobby."

The house elf appeared.

"What can Dobby be getting the Headmaster?" Dobby asked, bowing slightly. He saw Rebecca out of the corner of his giant eyes.

"Miss Felan needs an overnight bag that she has left within her dormitory," Severus said quickly. "Retrieve it immediately."

Dobby popped out of existence again. After a few beats, he reappeared with a louder pop. Or maybe that was in Rebecca's head. She shut her eyes for a moment.

"Can Dobby get the Headmaster anything else?"

"A large bowl full of cold water and a cloth," Severus said, taking the bag from Dobby. "As well as an empty bowl. Now."

The elf disappeared once more. Severus turned to Rebecca and handed her the bag. "Change into more comfortable sleeping attire," he said. "The lavatory is right there." He pointed to the only door on one wall.

Rebecca stood with some effort. Once in the bathroom, she tried to change quickly. Taking off her robes was simply an adventure, due to her pounding head and churning stomach. Finally, she was in what she normally wore to bed: a red tank top and shorts made of sweatpants material. Rummaging in her bag for a second more, she brought out her toothbrush and paste and gave her mouth a much-needed scrubbing. The metallic taste was soon gone, and she felt somewhat better. She stowed everything inside her bag, feeling rather lethargic.

She re-entered the room to find Dobby had come and gone again. Severus had shed his robe and unbuttoned his sleeves to roll them up, but that was it. She saw his Mark on his left forearm, idly wondering if he was less self-conscious around her now because she had one of her own. That nearly made her pitch forward.

He growled and reached out for her, holding onto her shoulders to steady her. Severus took the bag from her and tossed it in some direction.

"Do you remember what I told you would occur tonight?" he asked as he led her toward the bed, a giant even in this big of a room.

"Yes," Rebecca said. Her throat felt tight.

"You will stay here this weekend, in this bed," he told her, sitting her down once again. "You will be too weak to do much else."

Rebecca opened her mouth in an effort to protest. Surely, this was his bed. Where would he sleep?

She must have been an open book, or perhaps he knew her too well.

"Do not worry about me, Rebecca," he said. "I have been through this process by myself. You will be no worse off than I was."

She was losing consciousness pretty quickly. Sweat was already pooling around her hairline. He took a step closer to the bed.

"Lay down," he ordered, pushing lightly on her shoulder as he placed another steadying hand on her back.

This was not as awkward as he had imagined it to be. He knew those moments were going to come, especially if she were to begin hallucinating, like he had. Or when she went quiet and slept. Then there would be time to think about all that had happened. Severus didn't like that idea.

Rebecca felt the heat getting to her. Her eyelids felt warm. Her whole body felt achy and limp. She was glad to be lying down.

"Rest, Rebecca. It's all right."

Severus was not one to comfort, but the girl was probably still on alert from her ordeal. She needed to rest in order to get through the worst of what was to come while she slept.

"Can't," she said faintly. "Too hot."

Severus pulled over an armchair that he had placed near the bed and sat down, then reached for the washcloth in the large bowl of cold water. Both sat, waiting, on the nightstand beside the bed. He wrung out the excess water in the cloth, then placed it upon her forehead. Rebecca shut her eyes at the wonderfully cooling feeling, letting out a tiny sigh.

From this angle, Severus could see both their Marks. Hers was bright, still moving with her pulse. The snake protruding from the mouth of the skull seemed to sway from left to right, as if mocking him. No, she was moving her hand.

The washcloth was already warm from being too long on her forehead. Severus dipped it back into the cold water and left it there for a moment before wringing it out once more. He returned it to her forehead.

She was not speaking, which Severus couldn't decide was a good or bad thing. Her breathing, though a bit shallow, was at least even. He took her wrist in his free hand and remained still for a moment. Her pulse was a bit erratic, but nothing that should be too harmful. She probably still had too much adrenaline in her system from the ceremony. Merlin knows he was still jittery from watching her duel Bellatrix Lestrange by herself.

As Severus performed the mundane task of trying to keep Rebecca cool while she, more or less, succumbed to the power of the Dark Mark, he began thinking about the aftermath of her duel with the crazed witch. She had been in particularly good form and character, too. The latter was quite astounding. He would never have imagined, even as she had progressed in the past two years, that she would be able to cast the Cruciatus Curse on another person. Especially after what she'd had to do to Charity Burbage.

Though casting it on Bellatrix was quite understandable.

As he looked to Rebecca's face and held onto her wrist in order to check her pulse once more, he felt a cold wave rush through his body. He thought back to how his body had wanted to react to hers while they kissed to complete the ceremony. Could he be, perhaps, going insane? Maybe he had secluded himself too long from his sexual side. After all, there had only been a… Well, there was no proper way to say it, and after all there was currently no one to justify himself to. He'd only had prostitutes to satisfy him in his earlier years. There weren't too many people who would willingly bed a possible Death Eater who was also unpleasant to be around normally. Afterward, Severus hadn't felt desirous of those sorts of things, and hadn't felt any stirrings for quite a while. He had stuffed those deep down within himself.

But why would they choose that exact moment to make themselves known once more? It was poor timing at its worst. It was good that he had taken the performance-ending potion. It had gotten him through many revels with the Dark Lord mostly unscathed and, more importantly, rendered him unable to harm anyone else in that way.

His thoughts turned to his own initiation into the Inner Circle, but quickly stopped as he recalled what exactly had to be done to him. He shuddered and wrung out the cold water once more. Severus turned to place it back, once more, on Rebecca's forehead.

But she sat up, looking pale in the dim light of the candles in his quarters. Sweat beaded at her hairline, the base of her neck, and on her upper lip. Her fever looked to be getting dangerous.

"Rebecca," he said, putting down the washcloth and reaching for her.

She turned to him, looking a bit frightened at first. Then, her features became confused.

"Sirius?"

Bloody hell. She was already hallucinating. And, naturally, she was thinking she saw Black of all people. This was turning out to be quite an unpleasant evening all around. He might as well play along to make it easier on her. Angering a person with a high fever was never a good thing.

Severus nodded.

"But… you're dead."

"Well, clearly you wanted to talk to me badly enough," Severus replied, mimicking Black as best he could in his voice and mannerisms. "And I've been trying my best to look out for you."

"Why?"

"I thought we were friends, Becca."

The nickname rolled off Severus's lips a bit uncomfortably. She didn't seem to notice.

"Of course, I just…"

"It's been a rough night for you, I know."

There was a pause, and she just looked at him. Though the room around them was a bit fuzzy, Sirius himself was quite clear. He looked just as he did the day he was murdered: clean-shaven, black hair long and pulled away from his face, blue eyes glinting with mischievousness. She turned to face him, her legs hanging limply over the edge of the bed.

"I was going to kill Bellatrix tonight," she admitted quietly, her lips barely moving.

Severus felt his features fall with the words from her mouth. He had suspected, but he had never thought she would say anything about it to anyone. Perhaps she and Black had been closer than he imagined. Then again, Bellatrix had been the one to kill Black. The girl sought vengeance for a friend. How very noble, he thought.

"I know," he replied easily. "I saw it in your look tonight. It was best you didn't. You don't need her on your conscience."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Sirius," Rebecca said, licking her lips. She looked up to meet his eyes. "I wouldn't have thought twice about killing her after I'd done it."

Severus wasn't sure to say about that. He remained silent, hoping she would continue the conversation. But she looked so frightened. How long had she been having these thoughts?

"Do you think this makes you more like one of them?" he asked carefully.

She glanced away from him, her eyes settling on the floor.

He sighed. "Rebecca, you're nothing like them."

"Aren't I?" she asked, sneering. She turned up her wrist, leaning forward so he could get a good look at the Dark Mark, which he had only been considering a few minutes ago. "I've already killed someone. Professor Burbage didn't deserve to die."

The black on her otherwise pale skin shone under a layer of sweat. Her whole body appeared to be covered in it. He needed to calm her down.

"No, Becca, you're not anything like them," Severus said, taking her hand in his and lowering it. "You're doing this for the benefit of your friends and the wizarding world."

He stood and moved to sit on his bed. Though he was uncomfortable with it, he sat next to her. This was, after all, him playing Black. He imagined her addled brain didn't need much helping the hallucination, but he figured it wouldn't harm her if she truly believed her deceased friend was comforting her.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough."

It was a whisper.

She leaned against him. Severus put an arm around her shoulder. She was burning up to his touch.

"You've made it this far. You'll make it. I have faith in you. And Snape does, too."

She looked up at him.

"Yes, I can see him, too," Severus said. "He has the most faith in you. Though, he's Snape, so he'd never say it out loud. But that's what you need right now: a strong support system. With Harry and the others gone and you pretending to be what you are, you don't have that. I'm sorry I can't be there."

"It's not your fault," Rebecca said, putting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I couldn't get up fast enough. If I had, maybe I could've…"

"My death wasn't your fault," Severus said, taking hold of both her shoulders and turning her to face him. Now he understood why she'd been so torn up about Black's passing. "Don't ever think such thoughts again."

And, without a second thought, he hugged her to him. Her arms wrapped slowly around him, though her grip was weak.

"I won't," she said.

Both pulled from the hug and were silent for another moment.

"Severus really believes in me?" she suddenly asked.

He sighed. "Before I died, Dumbledore told me something after a meeting one night," he said. This was complete adlibbing, but Severus was about to speak the truth. It was frightening, but he needed her to feel better—or perhaps tired enough—to go back to sleep. She would heal faster that way. "He said Snape didn't trust anyone except him. But Dumbledore thought you would break Snape of that. The git has faith in you. I just know he does, Becca. And you know I wouldn't have a good reason to say a kind word about him if I didn't really believe that."

Rebecca nodded, then looked away from him. She appeared thoughtful.

"I love him."

Severus looked to her this time. If it hadn't been for his years of spying, his jaw would be on the floor of his quarters.

"I haven't said it out loud before. I love him." She met his gaze. Why would she tell Sirius, of all people? "I'm sorry, Sirius. You must think I'm completely nutters."

"I think you're confused a bit, Becca," Severus said, amazed he could respond at all. He patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. "And you're also very tired. You had a trying day. You should rest."

Rebecca nodded absently. "It was good to see you, Sirius. I'm glad to know you're all right. I'll send Harry your love."

Severus nodded, glad that she had suggested it before he had to say it.

"Thank you."

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. It took everything in Severus not to move away from her as a reflex. His skin felt somehow softer where she had planted her kiss. As she lay back down on the bed, Severus moved to his chair, staring at her as his hand reached up to cover his cheek. Almost as soon as she was settled, she appeared to be asleep again. He needed to bring her fever down, and very quickly. He couldn't afford any more hallucinations. He also didn't want any time to think about what she had just revealed to him.

He cast a cooling charm on the bed and practically washed her head, neck, and wrists with the cold washcloth. After a few minutes, she wasn't as hot to the touch. She tossed and turned frequently, but her fever wasn't endangering her anymore. And there would be no more hallucinations—that was very important.

She was fine for only a few minutes before she woke up once more. This time, she couldn't sit up.

Rebecca opened her eyes to find the room spinning, and her skin cold and clammy. She reached out, but felt as though she was being pitched to her left. She steadied herself before looking around. Her eyes fell upon Severus, sitting in his chair next to the bed, watching her.

"Severus," she said weakly, moving closer to the edge of the bed.

He reached for the empty bowl after he saw her reach for her stomach. She doubled up on herself, gritting her teeth.

He placed the bowl just beside her head. "Your body is reacting to the Dark Mark, just like it would an infection."

Her fingers ran through her long, red hair. With it moved away from her face, she pulled the bowl to her and hovered just above it. Severus put a hand on her shoulder, knowing he could really do nothing else while she relieved her stomach of its contents. He did not worry about there being blood, considering it was the last thing she ingested. She convulsed a few times, her shoulders heaving forward to accompany the sickening sound. Severus was glad he had a strong stomach.

Rebecca could not feel the humiliation, but in the back of her mind she knew she would later. She felt so numb, but with each wave of sickness, her nerves felt like they'd been lit with one of the candles lighting the room. Her left forearm burned terribly.

She stopped almost as suddenly as she started, then began shivering slightly.

"Lavatory," she mumbled.

Severus stood and waited to see if she needed help standing. He could call Dobby, but he couldn't risk the house elf spreading what he had seen. No one could know of Rebecca's current state of weakness. He could only trust himself.

Though he was never the type to comfort nor aid with an illness, now he had no choice. And wasn't that what she needed now more than ever, when she felt as though she were losing control of herself- not just physically but perhaps mentally?

He shoved his normal discomfort and restraint aside and took her right forearm gently and offered her the support she needed while she stood. Rebecca glanced up at him, looking surprised. But he did not meet her gaze. She leaned on him the entire way across the room, her legs feeling weak and made of rubber underneath her.

Finally, he had her squatting before the toilet. Not at all glamorous, but she couldn't bear to think of that now. Hearing a few quick words under Severus' breath, Rebecca felt her hair pulling back from her face. It tied itself neatly, but loosely, behind her head with the help of his magic.

"If you need me, I'll be cleaning up," he said gently, just like the touch of his hand had been.

He stood to go, and Rebecca knew she didn't have much time before the next bought of sickness would strike her. She grabbed his wrist with a huge effort. Severus looked down at her, concerned.

"Thank you."

Was she… crying? he wondered.

But there was no more time to consider her, for she let go of his wrist and lurched towards the toilet. She needed her privacy, and he needed to clean out the bowl and the sheets. She could not continue to sleep on them, soiled as they were.

After about ten minutes, Rebecca made her way from the lavatory. She felt even more unsure on her feet. She opened the door to find Severus putting new cases on the pillows with a few flicks of his wand. He looked to her, briefly, when he heard the door open. She was ghastly pale.

"Did you bring a change of clothes?" he asked as the last pillowcase slid into place.

"Yes, a few," she said, looking at her bag that rested across the room.

Severus saw her forlorn gaze and couldn't recall ever seeing her look so broken. He sighed quietly and picked it up before bringing it to her.

"Do what you need to feel more like yourself," he told her as she took the bag from him.

The tiny half-smile she gave him made him hope that she would be all right as she turned back into the lavatory once more.

It appeared the worst of it was over, Severus thought as he settled back on the chair beside the bed. Merlin, he hoped the worst was over. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to think of all that had occurred in the last few minutes. She would probably not remember. He would not bring it up. This was no time for emotional involvement, especially when it was merely one-sided.

He cared for her as a professor cares for his student, a mentor for his protégé. He cared for her because Albus had cared for her, and had told him to watch out for her. He wanted her to make it through the war, because she was young and deserved so much more.

There. That was what it was. And that was why the locket worked for her.

Which made him wonder why she hadn't been wearing it tonight. If she appeared up to a small conversation when she came out of the lavatory once more, he would need to ask her, if to alleviate any awkward feelings on her part.

The first thing Rebecca did was brush her teeth again. And then a second and third time. The taste of bile was strong, and the metallic taste of the blood had returned. She retched once more, threatening to begin her episode all over again. But she steeled her nerves and stomach and took a few deep, calming breathes. That was a little better.

She looked at the shower and considered it. Finally, she stripped off the sweat-soaked clothes and stepped into the depths of the tiled walls, pulling the curtain to. Of course, everything was black. So bland.

The water was cold against her skin, but she didn't mind. She turned the temperature up a few degrees and washed herself, finding the soap easily. She kept her eyes forward, not wanting to look at the Dark Mark on her forearm or anywhere else on her body. This was her shower ritual. She couldn't stand to look at the ugly grooves in her skin.

The warm water helped her greatly. She turned off the water and stepped out once more, keeping the rational side of her brain shut down for once. If she didn't, she would overthink everything she was doing. Since she was focusing so much on just getting through with these menial tasks, adding deep thought to this process would completely drain her.

She dried herself quickly and was into another set of sleeping clothes, this time a green tank top and grey sweatpants. Nearly Slytherin colors. She rolled her eyes. They landed on the mirror.

Rebecca hadn't meant to look there. Her face was a pasty white. Her green eyes looked sunken into her face, and not as vibrant as she always thought they were. Her shoulders slumped forward. The top of the jagged edges of the Mark on her sternum peeked out from underneath the tank top. Quickly, she darted her eyes away from it, but they only caught the sight of the black Mark on her forearm.

She raised her left arm to look more closely at the Mark in the mirror. The snake coming out of the skull's mouth was grotesque, its fangs bared in a sign of power. The skull was an implement of intimidation. The snake was the lethal part. Together, they symbolized a group of people who would stop at nothing for what they believed in. And what they wanted was for people like her to be exterminated.

And she was one of them. Now she had to pretend to stand for everything she had fought against with Albus, for Albus… and for Harry, her best friend. For Hermione, a muggleborn just like her. For Ron, who was considered a blood traitor for associating with her and Hermione.

She remembered, suddenly, the feeling of want filling her when Bellatrix was lying prostrate on the ground before her, writhing in pain. She had _wanted_ to kill Bellatrix, so badly the desire was almost painful. She had taken joy in her vengeance. She was becoming like them already. Would she, too, turn on her friends? Would she betray them just as Peter Pettigrew had betrayed Lily and James?

Lily Evans… the woman she looked like. The woman who Rebecca had heard many stories about, all of them good things. Smart, beautiful, kind, and powerful… All the things Rebecca strove for. And they were related.

But she was not like Lily, not anything like her at all. Lily would never succumb to her want to hurt someone. She would never want to hurt someone. Even in her dying moments, her want had been to protect, not to harm.

Once more, Rebecca looked to the Dark Mark with the aid of the mirror. The snake taunted her with its wide open mouth, its fangs gleaming in the light.

She was a terrible person.

Before she realized what she was doing, Rebecca lifted her arm, making a fist, and punched the mirror with her remaining strength.

Severus wondered what was taking Rebecca so long. Perhaps he should check on her. But he had heard the shower running. She might not be decent. He had told her to do what she needed to feel like herself.

Then he heard the crashing of glass. There was no time to consider anything. He was on his feet and across the room, yanking open the door of the lavatory, before the sound had even faded.

Rebecca was in the process of squatting, holding her hand to her chest with her jaw clenched. The mirror above his sink was shattered. Glass was everywhere. Some pieces still hung onto the wooden paneling that had attached the mirror to the wall.

He knelt beside her, waving his hand to sweep the glass against the wall. It obeyed his magic. He noticed her face was hidden by her hair, darkened in its wet state. She was shaking. From adrenaline, from pain, from something… he couldn't be sure.

Without saying a word, he reached for her hand. She jerked away from him, looking angrily in his direction. He kept his features neutral and stared back, not dropping his gaze.

Eventually, she glanced to the floor, allowing herself to relax her muscles ever so slightly. Severus reached forward once again and surveyed her hand, holding it carefully to make sure he wasn't sticking himself on glass or causing her undue pain.

Her knuckles were cut to ribbons. Between them were smallish pieces of glass jutting outward. Silently, he pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at a nearby, slightly larger, piece of glass. He transfigured it into a pair of tweezers. With it, he pulled out the glass.

With each pull, Rebecca tried to jerk away from him. She couldn't help it. A look from Severus set her back into place each time. Once he was done, he waved his wand once more. The tweezers and glass vanished. The mirror was not replaced.

"I don't need you breaking any more of them," he muttered, as if in answer to her question.

Rebecca felt ashamed.

He tugged on her arm lightly, bidding her to come with him. She followed him back into the room, where he sat her on the bed.

"Wait here," he told her, then disappeared from her line of sight. That wasn't too far, considering she was looking at the floor.

He came back within a minute, holding a vial of some sort of salve, she was sure, and a bandage wrap. He set them on the nightstand and dragged his chair closer to her, then sat down. Their knees were touching, but she did not flinch. She would do nothing more to upset him, lest he throw her out.

Severus opened the vial and dipped a clean cloth into the opening. The cleaning salve was thick and clear, a bit sticky. He took her left hand once more and lifted it near his chest-level. He placed the cloth on her knuckles and heard her take in a breath of air quickly. She did not move, otherwise. He did this with each of her knuckles, applying the salve on thick. He set the cloth down and began wrapping the bandage around her hand, covering the knuckles as well. He tied it off, facing her palm.

Once he was done, he looked up at her. She had her eyes cast to the floor. He realized that they were very close to one another. But right now, he didn't truly give a damn. He wasn't angry at her, he realized. He was concerned, worried. Emotions that didn't usually come to him so readily.

"I'm sorry."

If he hadn't been looking at her, he wasn't sure he would've heard her.

"I, too, have broken my share of mirrors," he replied. "Do you… need to talk?"

Rebecca looked to him, touched that he would ask such a question.

"I… I wanted to kill Bellatrix," she said. "I would have if Tom hadn't stopped me. And I would've been glad to do it."

Severus nodded. So she didn't remember her earlier episode from that night, when she thought he was Sirius. He would not tell her of what she said.

"I saw my reflection in the mirror," Rebecca continued. "I look so terrible." She looked down, embarrassed at showing any sort of vanity of her part. "Then I saw the Dark Mark."

Her right hand clenched her left forearm tightly.

"I thought how terrible of a person I am, to have to appear like I've turned my back on everything that I stand for. I know every one of my friends will hate me- they already do hate me." She shook her head, the thoughts and feelings spilling from her so fast that she couldn't stop them. "Everything that I think now is tainted by _them_, and by this feeling that I have to avenge everyone who's fallen for the side of the Light. I feel like I'm not myself. And I'm a terrible person for wanting and actually _enjoying_ the thought of killing Bellatrix Lestrange. And then I thought of Lily, and how I look so much like her but I'm nothing like her. I can never be as perfect as everyone knew she was. I can't ever be like her."

She stopped herself suddenly, biting her lower lip to make herself stop talking. She dug her arms into her stomach and leaned forward, unable to look up at him. Her eyes had filled with tears during her speech. Now they spilled over, dropping onto the floor. She stared down at their touching knees, and suddenly felt undeserving of the comfort he was trying to offer her. She shut her eyes and grit her teeth, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Severus reached forward and put a hand on her shoulder. But she did not glance up at him.

"Listen to me carefully, Rebecca," he said, his voice low and serious. "You are nothing like an actual Death Eater. Your want to kill Bellatrix is normal. It does not make you a terrible person."

She took in a breath. It sounded as though she was holding back a sob.

"Rebecca, you are protecting what you stand for by infiltrating the most difficult group to gain acceptance into," Severus continued. "You are doing what must be done. This makes you very brave and strong of spirit. It does not make you like them."

She shook her head. His words were not hitting their mark. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Admittedly, your resemblance to Lily is uncanny," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes I feel as though I'm seeing her again. Lily was many things, Rebecca, but she was not perfect. No one is. But you are more like her than you can imagine in many ways. But the ways that you are different are what make you unique… what make you better than Lily. Do you understand?"

She finally looked up at him, her green eyes flooded with tears and rimmed by red. Her cheeks were almost as red as her hair, but the rest of her face was very pale.

"Cast your Patronus," Severus said suddenly. He looked around for her wand. "_Accio_ Rebecca's wand."

It came to him and he reached for her left hand, prying it open gently and placing the wood between her fingers. Her grip was relaxed, almost to the point that she dropped it.

"Cast it," Severus repeated, the words barely making it out between his clenched teeth.

"I can't," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Yes, you can."

Rebecca shook her head again.

"Look at me, damn it!"

Her head jerked upward, her eyes full of concern.

"Cast your Patronus," he said again.

She looked at her wand forlornly before pointing it out into the middle of the room. Her arm shook.

"_E-expecto Patronum_."

A bit of a silvery mist came from the tip of her wand. Rebecca's arm dropped into her lap. She shook her head vigorously.

"I have the Mark. I can't cast my Patronus."

Severus stood suddenly, taking her by her wand arm and all but dragging her up. She could not lose hope, not when he'd gotten her this far into things.

"Cast your Patronus," he growled at her.

"Severus, please…"

Her pleading look would have worked on him at any other point. He gave a noise of frustration before yelling at her.

"You _can_ cast your Patronus! I have carried the Mark for years and never lost my ability."

"I can't." Her voice was weak.

Her wand clattered to the floor. She slumped back down in the chair, covering her face with her hands. Severus watched her, feeling suddenly as though he had failed. But he could not fail her. He could not watch her suffer from her own feelings of imperfection and disgust. He had held those exact same feelings about himself for much too long to let another person think the same way.

He turned to the nightstand beside the bed and grabbed his wand. She looked up at the sound of his movements and watched him curiously.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Severus said clearly.

The silver doe shot from his wand and trotted to the middle of the room. She stopped to look back at the two of them, her gaze even and steady. Severus glanced at Rebecca. Her mouth was open in awe, her eyes wide and unblinking. She stood slowly, took a step toward the doe.

"She's… beautiful," she whispered.

Rebecca reached her hand out as the Patronus took a step towards the woman, her neck outstretched. As Rebecca leaned forward to touch her, the doe closed the distance and pushed her head into Rebecca's hand. Rebecca smiled. The doe faded.

Severus had never seen a Patronus act in that manner before. It was almost as if the spell had come alive. Rebecca turned back to him, her expression still full of shock at what had occurred.

"If I can create my Patronus, so can you," Severus said, stooping to retrieve her wand. He handed it back to her. "Cast the spell."

Rebecca took her wand in hand, her grip much firmer. She met Severus' steady gaze before turning to face the center of the room. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, her happy memory seemed deficient. But what had just occurred had filled her up with such a joy. She'd been feeling so low, so hopeless. The doe was such a bright figure to her, a representation that things could get better. And it was the Patronus of Severus Snape, the bravest, most selfless person she knew.

With the memory of the doe in her head, Rebecca pointed her wand to the center of the room.

"_Expecto Patronum_," she said.

The silvery mist sprang from the tip of her wand, forming into the four-legged wolf she had become accustomed to. But as the wolf took shape and finally settled in the center of the room, Rebecca gasped. Her Patronus had a wolf's head and body. But its legs were that of a doe.

The Patronus quickly disappeared now that Rebecca could no longer concentrate. Slowly, she turned to face Severus. His features showed his own shock at what he had seen. He looked to her.

"You are nothing like any of the Death Eaters, Rebecca," he said evenly. "None of them can think of a good enough thought to even attempt to cast a Patronus. It is because they are not good themselves. Innately, you are still good."

She nodded.

"You're tired," he said suddenly. "It is time for you to sleep."

Rebecca had to pass him in order to place her wand on the nightstand, wondering what he could possibly make of her deformed Patronus. Perhaps it would be wise to choose a different happy memory the next time she wished to cast it, so that it would revert back to its complete wolf state. The doe did not suit her.

She settled under the covers as Severus settled in the chair beside the bed. He had a book in his hands. He didn't speak anymore, perusing the pages of his text. Under his watch, Rebecca was able to fall asleep, feeling her body give in from all of the stress and sickness.

* * *

_Snape's Proposal, November 9, 1997_

The next morning, Rebecca awoke to the smell of breakfast. She stayed still a moment longer to get her bearings. When she finally looked around, she spotted Severus at a table in the corner, a plate of food before him and more on another across from him.

He glanced her way for a moment, but said nothing before returning back to his food. Rebecca stood slowly, working out the sore spots. She felt weakened. When she stretched out her left hand, she winced, then remembered what she had done the night before to deserve such a fate.

Slowly, she rose from the bed, feeling unsure on her own feet.

Severus watched her carefully through his peripherals. If she needed help, he would be there in an instant. So far, she seemed fine. She entered the lavatory, taking her bag with her. He nibbled on the food Dobby had brought him, though he had no real appetite.

He'd watched her sleep more than he was comfortable with last night. He couldn't bring himself to look away for more time than it took to read a page in his book. He even brought some of the paperwork up from the office below that needed to be seen to. He'd been restless the whole night, even though after her hallucination and mirror-breaking fiasco, she'd slept perfectly well. Perhaps, he suspected, the best in a long time. He tried not to think about the way her Patronus had looked.

She entered the room once more and dropped the bag next to the bed before approaching the table. He looked up at her and noted the muggle-like attire she'd chosen (jeans and a gray t-shirt).

"Sit," he said, motioning to the chair across from him. "Eat."

She did as he bid, though she did not appear particularly happy about eating the food.

Rebecca's stomach still felt wretched from the night before. And her nerves were probably not helping her. The mirror had still not been replaced, and she couldn't help but feel guilty for it.

Before she could speak, he began asking the questions.

"I noticed you were not wearing the locket last night," he said casually. "Why is that?"

"I was unsure if its magic would affect the ceremony," she replied. "I didn't have time to confer with you beforehand."

He made a noncommittal noise. "See that you wear it from here on out, ceremony or no."

She nodded before picking at the fruit on her plate. "I'm sorry I broke your mirror."

Severus rolled his eyes. "It wasn't that nice of a mirror," he said, looking straight at her. "But you must learn to harness your anger for better purposes."

Rebecca said nothing, only stared at the plate of barely-touched food before her.

"I've noticed that you believe you can do things on your own," Severus continued. "Though that may be true in many situations, your arrogance will likely be the death of you if you don't learn to share your feelings, whether they be of fear or inadequacy."

She furrowed her brows and squished a grape under her thumb. "Because you're so bloody good at sharing your feelings."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "And, as I said, learning to harness. Your. Anger."

He slapped his open palm onto the table for emphasis. Rebecca stopped her movements. His voice was deadly in its tone. Though it was so soft she could hardly hear it, it rang deep into her chest. She knew she had truly angered him and kept her face lowered even when she dared to glance up at him.

His features were set neutrally, but his lips formed a thin line. There was a crease in his forehead between his brows. That was all that gave his ire away. She stole a glance at his black eyes, but looked away quickly.

"We are in this together," he began again, his words coming out very slowly. "I receive punishment along with you should you fail."

"I will not fail," she muttered.

"You do not know that."

"You didn't see fit to tell me about _that_ part of the ceremony," Rebecca said, finally meeting his eyes. "What happened to no more secrets?"

"Had I told you, you would have faltered."

"You don't know that I would have."

"I know you much better than you believe that I do," Severus said, narrowing his eyes at her. "You must remember that I have seen into your mind, seen memories that you did not want me to see when I was teaching you Occlumency. If anything, I know you better than you know yourself."

"That doesn't mean you had to lie to me," Rebecca replied, her own voice going quiet in her anger.

"I did nothing more than omit a certain piece of information," Severus said, raising his voice over her own. "Just as you omitted the fact that Greyback had touched you."

"That had been no one else's business."

"It would have been had he gotten any farther."

"And if he had, I would've gone to Madam Pomfrey. But he did not."

There was a great tension between the two. They kept their eyes locked together, neither willing to submit to the other. Finally, Rebecca could handle it no longer.

"I will not fail should it mean harm will come to you," she said, her voice a whisper. "I owe you much more than a Life Debt."

He was taken aback by her tone. Quickly, he recalled the words she believed to have spoken to Black the night before. He wondered if they were crazy mutterings of a hallucinating individual or if there was more truth to them than he originally thought. Her tone suggested the latter. So had her Patronus.

"You should not be so quick to thank me for that," Severus said, standing.

He wore what he had the night before: his white frock coat with the sleeves rolled up and his black trousers. He still even had on his shoes.

"We must create one more memory," he said, standing before his chair.

"And what might that be?" Rebecca asked, feeling a small pit of fear begin to collect in her stomach.

Severus took in a deep breath and let it out before taking the steps required to stand before her. She looked up at him, a worried expression on her face. Slowly, he began to sink down onto one knee.

Rebecca's eyes grew wide at his actions. She knew what was coming next, and only hoped she could speak the correct lines.

Soon, Severus was on one knee before her. His head was only a few inches below hers. He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out a thin ring box, which he presented to her before opening. Inside sat a band of white gold, a rather large emerald positioned in the center. The ring looked polished, as though it had been labored over for quite some time.

"This ring has been in the Prince family for generations," Severus said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I never believed that I should take a wife, but I always wished to use this should that time ever come."

He plucked the ring from its box before setting the latter item on the table. Rebecca's breaths were short as he reached for her hand. He slipped the jewel onto her left ring finger.

"Our Lord wishes for us to be wed, Rebecca," Severus continued. "Together, he believes that we can help further his cause. You have always been of interest to me. Now that it has been proven your blood is purer than most others', I would be glad to take you as my own when the time is right."

Rebecca's mind raced. She knew this was all an act, but she got the sensation that at least a few of the lines he delivered were based in fact. His hand still held hers in a light grip. She saw that hers trembled.

"Marry me," he whispered.

"Y-yes, Severus," Rebecca said. "I would like that."

She knew the memory was not over when he did not pull away, but reached to pull her closer to him. And then he pulled her much closer than she expected.

His lips touched her forehead lightly. She felt relaxed in his grasp.

"You proved yourself last evening," he said against her skin. "You did very well. I am proud to have someone such as yourself by my side, and by our Lord's side."

He pulled back so that he was not even an inch away from her face.

"I know that you are still weak, so we will celebrate when you are feeling better," he said, giving her the tiniest of smiles.

She nodded as he rose from the ground. She felt light-headed once more, though the sensation was different from the one the night before.

And just like that, the spell was broken. Severus sat back in his chair, then pointed to her hand.

"Wear that ring," he said. "Never take it off, not even for a moment. It will please the Dark Lord and his followers, as well as any student spies for the Inner Circle."

"And the others?" Rebecca said. It would seal her off further from everyone else.

"Yes. The Carrows will not dare to raise a hand against you, now that you are my betrothed and you successfully defeated Bellatrix in a duel. And quite well, I might add."

"I thought of Sirius and Neville," Rebecca said, her eyes unable to leave the beauty of the ring now upon her finger. "They helped my curse's power."

Severus nodded. It made sense why she thought he was Black the night before; she had already had him on the mind.

"This will go in the _Prophet_, won't it?" Rebecca asked suddenly, meeting his eyes.

"Yes. And the radio," he answered.

"Everyone will know."

"Yes."

There was a great pause between them.

"I'm afraid," Rebecca said.

The simple statement struck him. He looked at her, wondering if she was taking what he said to heart. The nervous look in her eyes told him she spoke the truth.

"You've been afraid for a long time," Severus replied.

"Not like this."

"You cannot fall apart now," he said, leaning forward. "I promised Albus I would get you through this war alive."

"I know."

Severus cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. "But?"

"I don't think I'm strong enough."

Her green eyes locked onto his and he could sense the entirety of her feelings she had been holding back. She looked just as she had when she entered the Great Hall for the first time: frightened, overwhelmed, and small.

"You will make it through, Rebecca."

"Promise that we'll both get through this," she said. "That we'll both be alive by the end of this."

He almost laughed. That would have been terribly morbid. He did not. Instead, he gave her a steady look.

"I cannot promise something that I don't know I can deliver," Severus replied.

He stood and began his descent into his office.

"I have some work that I must catch up on," he continued. "Do not overexert yourself."

And he disappeared down the stairs, leaving Rebecca feeling more alone than she had felt before. She brought her legs up into the chair, resting the heels of her feet on the seat. She hugged her legs to her body, her eyes staring at the emerald shining in the light.


	11. Seventh Year, Part 5: Mid November

_**Disclaimer:** _As usual, I don't own anything except Rebecca, and I don't plan to make money off of this.

**Author's Note:** Almost through the first half of her seventh year! Thank you to all my readers for sticking with me through this. It's been a struggle on some days. I'm also going to be trying something my friend suggested to me. For my readers to get a multi-sensory experience while reading, I'll post a couple of song titles, their artists, and perhaps some lyrics that reflect the mood of the chapters. Hopefully you all enjoy this as much as I will when I'm picking out the music. :)

**Songs for this Chapter**

"Memory" from the musical _Cats_ by Andrew Lloyd Webber

"I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders

* * *

_Transfiguration Lesson, November 12, 1997_

She wore the ring upon her left hand that Monday when she returned to classes. The looks she received from the professors, especially from Hagrid, nearly broke her. The Saturday and Sunday in Severus' quarters had been extremely boring, but very restful. He didn't let her do anything for herself unless she needed the lavatory. He didn't even let her read for too long. It was infuriating, but she felt better rested than she'd been since her fourth year. Rebecca didn't realize how tired she was, how much she lacked sleep, until she was finally able to go to sleep. And in his quarters, she knew she wouldn't come to any harm. Sleep came easy.

And that made her uneasy. That and her Patronus. Rebecca hadn't tried to cast it since Friday night. All of her happy memories seemed a little far off for her, and she wouldn't risk anyone seeing her cast her Patronus, not even Draco.

After a long and agonizing breakfast, Rebecca could finally leave to go to her first class. But there would be no respite there, not when it was Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall had always been one of her favorites. The older witch had been the one to come and tell Rebecca what she was. In the back of her mind, Rebecca always felt like McGonagall had been the one to rescue her from her boring muggle life, taking her away from a family who couldn't have cared any less for her.

Now she must face the witch whom she had been very close with, even when McGonagall hadn't agreed to her becoming a spy. Would the Transfiguration professor still think she was acting as a spy, even when she fully believed that Severus was the enemy? Rebecca shook her head, unsure of what to think.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked quietly. The corridor tended to amplify all conversations, so whispers were a necessity, even when you had two oafs such as Crabbe and Goyle flanking you and making a racket of it.

"Getting better," Rebecca said, understanding what he was really asking. Draco couldn't even begin to fathom the turmoil she was in right now. He was nice enough, she'd come to discover, and definitely more brilliant than she and her friends had ever given him credit for, but he was still fairly self-centered. It was difficult for him to see things from other viewpoints. But Rebecca didn't want him to in this case. It would risk her new standing with Tom and the Death Eaters.

Draco nodded. "It hurts the first week or so," he said. "But it gets better." He put a hand on her shoulder, unthinking.

Rebecca flinched slightly, then gave him a sad look when he pulled away, looking hurt. "Sorry," she whispered. "I still can't help it sometimes."

Draco shrugged. Not a big deal, she could almost hear him saying. Almost. But what went unsaid was that she'd hurt him by flinching. He would either get over it or he wouldn't. If Rebecca tried to worry about another thing, she'd go bonkers.

She and Draco stepped into the familiar Transfiguration room and took their seats, waiting for McGonagall to enter. Crabbe and Goyle turned around at the door, heading back towards the common room. Neither of them had achieved a good enough level on their O.W.L.s for Transfiguration. For perhaps the umpteenth time, Rebecca wondered how they had enough classes to fill their schedules.

Rebecca used to look forward to Transfiguration. But she felt her stomach drop to her feet when the professor walked in, stern face set into stone and her lips so thin they were nearly invisible. But Rebecca didn't flinch this time; she could not. To do so would show weakness, remorse, and a whole slew of other emotions she wasn't supposed to be feeling at the moment.

Professor McGonagall stood before the class. Behind her was a tall object underneath a very large sheet. The way she looked at the students brought them to silence. She stared evenly at them, her eyes soon falling upon Rebecca. The girl did not balk nor look away, but held her professor's gaze steadily. Finally, McGonagall moved on.

"Today I will have you practice one of the most difficult Transfiguration spells," she said evenly, her voice carrying across the classroom. "It is known simply as _Piertotum Locomotor_. Who knows what that means?"

Rebecca's hand went into the air. Her left hand, her most dominant hand. She didn't think about holding up her sleeve, or the way even the dim light of the classroom would make the jewel on her finger gleam brightly. And that's exactly what it did, though thankfully her long-sleeved shirt hid the Dark Mark from the view of everyone. If possible, McGonagall's face went even stonier.

"Yes, Miss Felan."

"In Latin, _piertotum_ is a combination of two words," Rebecca said, afraid to meet McGonagall's eyes. But she did anyway. The dark brown irises seemed to stare right through her. "_Pie_ means 'dutifully,' while _totum_ means 'all,' or 'the whole thing.' _Locomotor_ means 'the movement of.' Putting it together, the spell roughly means 'the movement of all the dutiful.' Or something to that effect." Rebecca shrugged.

She could feel Pansy and Millicent's stares on the back of her neck. Draco was looking smug beside her. McGonagall couldn't have appeared less impressed.

"Good, Miss Felan," she said. "Now can you tell us what the spell _does_?"

Perhaps that had been her original meaning, but Rebecca had been studying up on her Latin since her fifth year, hoping to be able to understand the spells she learned further. So far, it seemed to be helping.

"It makes stone statues move, professor," she answered.

"Correct," McGonagall said, turning to face the large object still under its sheet.

She did not award any House points, but Rebecca did not expect it. Rebecca was the enemy, not someone to be praised overly, especially because of the ring upon her finger.

With a flick of her wand, Professor McGonagall moved the sheet, revealing a stone soldier that had been stationed somewhere in the castle earlier that morning. Now, it stood silently, resolutely, before the classroom of seventh year students, who stared back mutely at it.

"Your task for this class is to make this creature do your bidding using the spell we've just discussed," McGonagall continued. "_Piertotum Locomotor_ was in your reading for this past week, so you should understand the theory behind the spell as well as the proper movements for it."

Her eyes swept over the classroom once more. "This spell, as some of you may remember, can be used upon multiple objects at once," she said. "But that is far too advanced for almost all witches and wizards, no matter their skill. For today, you are to bring to life this one statue. The student who does successfully will gain fifty points for his or her respective House."

There were only fifteen students in the room. Five Slytherins (she, Draco, Pansy, Millicent, and Blaise Zabini), four Ravenclaws (Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Padma Patil), two Hufflepuffs (Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones) and four Gryffindors (Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Parvati Patil, and Fay Dunbar). Out of all of the students, Slytherin statistically had the best chance of winning the House points. Rebecca was confident in her abilities for the spell. But she knew things would not end well if she was able to successfully make the statue move and everyone else couldn't.

"Mr. Goldstein," McGonagall said, beckoning the Ravenclaw to the front of the room.

Anthony held his wand at the ready, though he looked nervously at the statue, like it would attack him. Perhaps he was still shaken up from their last Dark Arts lesson.

He performed the spell admirably, but nothing happened. McGonagall went through all the Ravenclaws, but none of them could make the statue move, not even twitch. The Hufflepuffs failed. Then she got to the Gryffindors, who all tried their best. Seamus kicked the statue before returning to his seat. Resentfully, McGonagall began calling on the Slytherins, starting with Millicent, then Pansy, then Blaise, then Draco.

The blond returned to his seat beside her, face red with the effort to cast the spell properly. He huffed when he hit the seat harder than he expected. His wand clacked onto the desk in front of him.

"All right, Miss Felan, it's your turn," McGonagall said.

Her lips had disappeared once more, so thin and white were they on her already pale complexion.

Rebecca stood, wand out. She'd taken it out since Anthony had been called up. In her head, she saw herself completing the movements. She heard her voice saying the words, as if she'd practiced the pronunciation a hundred times. The statue soon stood before her, looming ominously. This was her battle for now, to prove herself to her Transfiguration professor, to the rest of the students. She wasn't just some pet. They all knew what she was capable of, but tried to hide behind their loathing of her. These people who had once been her friends, the ones she now tried to protect. The ones she'd almost given up on this very weekend. But she'd pulled through. Severus had pulled her through so she could save them.

And they all watched her with contempt. Even the Slytherins, except Draco.

Her shoulders straightened as Rebecca took in a deep breath. She raised her wand above her head and waved it before the statue, performing the fairly simple wand movement of a soft slash as she spoke the words.

"_Piertotum Locomotor_!"

Rebecca felt a rush of power flow from her chest and through her arm, finally releasing from the tip of her wand. It was draining, and she nearly fumbled. But she caught herself, watching the statue intently.

For a moment, it didn't look like anything had happened. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw McGonagall give a little smirk. Then, a piece fell from the statue. Slowly, one of the legs moved. It stepped forward, holding its sword at the ready. The statue's head turned to face Rebecca, whose smile came gradually to her face.

"_Finite Incantatem_," Rebecca said, her wand pointed at the statue's face.

And it froze once more, confined to its stone. But it had moved, and now it wasn't in its original position. She wasn't concerned about that.

The Slytherins gave polite applause, but Draco was grinning and actually trying to sound pleased for her.

"You did well, Miss Felan," McGonagall said with a curt nod. "Please take your seat."

That got the Slytherins to sit up and take notice. Rebecca saw the other Houses begin to snicker at the slight the Gryffindor Head of House was giving to her.

"What about the fifty House points, professor?" Pansy asked.

"You promised the student who could move the statue those points," Blaise said, sitting up straight at his desk near the back of the classroom.

Rebecca remained standing, wand held limply in her hand.

The sound of a chair scraping across the stone floor caught her attention. She looked to the Gryffindor table to see Seamus standing, pointing an accusing finger her way.

"This traitor doesn't deserve anything!" he said. "Anything's too good for the murderer's plaything!"

The words struck her as though they'd been a spell. She knew that she must react as though it had been a spell, just as she'd reacted to Michael Corner in Potions. The sneer came to her face as she quickly raised her wand at Seamus. The wordless Stun shot from her wand tip, only to be blocked by a powerful Shield Charm, suddenly floating before Seamus and the rest of the students.

Professor McGonagall was standing, wand still held at the ready. Her brown eyes glared holes into Rebecca, or would have had it only been possible. But Rebecca held the older witch's gaze. McGonagall still was very spry, and a very good duelist, for being over seventy years old. But she knew the professor; she would never attack a student unless there was no other choice.

"Class is dismissed," she said stonily. "But _not _you, Miss Felan."

The other Houses, excepting Slytherin, filed out quickly, gathering their items as fast as they could without stumbling. Most people ran out the door, especially Michael Corner, but Seamus made sure to continue glaring at her. Rebecca paid him no mind, signaling that she knew who would have won the duel had McGonagall not interrupted.

The classroom was now empty. Both women stood, silently facing each other, their wands still up in the air. With a flick of hers, McGonagall closed and warded the door. Then she stowed her wand inside her robes. Rebecca mimicked her. Even she wasn't certain she could beat Professor McGonagall in a duel. Luckily, it didn't look like it was going to come to that.

The Transfiguration professor's face was still unreadable, even as she began approaching Rebecca slowly. The Slytherin braced herself for a severe tongue-lashing, points being removed, or any number of things McGonagall might think to do to her. But Rebecca did not lower her gaze. She couldn't afford to, not when her image was on the line.

Just as Rebecca wasn't sure McGonagall could get any closer to her without touching her, the older witch did something completely unexpected. She touched Rebecca gently on the shoulder.

In that one, tiny motion, Rebecca felt her whole body relax. She looked up slightly at McGonagall, who was more or less at her height now. The witch gave a nod.

"It's all right, my dear," she said, the Scottish accent heavy in the silent room, "I understand."

Rebecca gave a heavy sigh, feeling the tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. She cleared her throat, finally looking away from McGonagall as she gathered her wits.

"Thank you," she answered.

"I'm still going to remove those House points," McGonagall said. "But it won't be as much since you earned the fifty today in class."

There was a pause between the two as Rebecca wondered how she could phrase her next question.

"Don't worry, I won't put the points under your name," McGonagall said. "But they'll still be yours, Miss Felan."

"Professor, I—"

The witch held up her hands. "I want no explanation. We never had this conversation. I punished you dully and you were defiant as ever. I'll be certain to be exasperated as the other professors. Word will get around."

Rebecca stared mutely at her Transfiguration professor.

"You may go, Felan."

Rebecca nodded, moving to the door. She paused just before it, looking back over her shoulder.

"I've made a potion for him," she said. "It overthrows the need for learning to become an Animangi."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "That is certainly an interesting potion. When this war is over, we shall discuss it more in-depth. If necessary, I will help you patent it and publish your research." McGonagall gave a tiny smile before letting her face fall back into its previous stony expression. "But, of course, I didn't hear that, either."

Rebecca gave a little bit of a smile. "Thanks, professor."

She turned to the door once more, feeling heartened by a conversation that had never occurred, by a promise that may never be kept. But McGonagall still trusted her, still understood her. Perhaps all hope was not lost.

Her heart sunk when she realized that the professor knowing such a thing would put her in danger. She couldn't tell Severus about this conversation. She couldn't tell anyone. Surely McGonagall was more than capable of taking care of herself, but with the Carrows wandering about, reporting everything back to Tom…

The hand upon the door shook slightly as her left reached for her wand. She clenched her jaw so tightly, her teeth hurt.

"Felan? I said you may go."

McGonagall's voice sounded concerned. Rebecca waited, hearing the footsteps come up quickly behind her. When she could practically feel the professor just inches from her, Rebecca turned, wand pointed. She didn't wait.

"_Obliviate_."

The spell hit McGonagall directly in the head, making her stop directly in front of Rebecca. Soon, her face had a blank look about it, and Rebecca put a hand over her mouth to stop the sob from leaping out. Quickly, she stowed her wand away, leaving the classroom. She was running down the corridor, her lonely footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Her eyes watered from the impact of what she'd had to do to protect the witch who had rescued her from the muggle world. The woman who had always been kind, though tough, upon her.

She would never remember that conversation. McGonagall wouldn't remember that she'd thought kindly of Rebecca, not since she'd turned to Snape and the Dark Lord.

Her dormitory was too far. Rebecca threw herself into an alcove, sinking to the floor and hiding her head in her hands and robes, quietly trying to get a hold of herself. Should anyone come upon her, her image would be severely affected. And though that thought helped her, Rebecca still felt the sense of isolation drop heavily upon her shoulders.

Later that evening, she entered the Headmaster's office to find a very angry-looking Severus Snape glaring at her from his desk.

"Amycus saw fit to inform me that my betrothed was not in his class this afternoon."

He voice was even, sounding somewhat as though he did not care. But Rebecca knew that this particular tone was dangerous. She decided to keep her mouth shut, to see what more he had to say.

"I told him that I had need of you elsewhere," Severus continued. "And that shut his mouth. But for how long."

Rebecca looked down at her hands, which she'd folded before her, standing quietly in front of the door.

Severus sneered. "Do I have to spell it out for you? What were you doing _not_ in class?"

Rebecca jolted a bit at his tone, which was much harsher than she'd ever thought to hear him, especially when speaking to her. He'd been so kind Friday night…

"Well?"

"I did go to McGonagall's class," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I heard much about your outburst at Finnigan," Severus replied. "And the way that Minerva treated you. But certainly that didn't upset you. Others have said and done worse."

Rebecca's jaw clenched tightly again.

"Nothing is ever so simple with you," Severus said with a sigh.

"McGonagall made everyone leave the classroom after I nearly Stunned Seamus," Rebecca said, her voice low, her words slow to come forth. She chose them carefully. "I thought we were going to duel right there, and I was scared."

She'd been saying that a lot more recently, he noticed. Her arrogance since receiving her Mark had gone away, and what was before him seemed merely a shell of the proud, high head-holding girl. She was still clearly shaken from what had occurred on Friday night, and over the weekend. After Saturday morning, he had all but ignored her. Perhaps doing so had not been the right decision.

"But she told me she understood what I was doing," Rebecca continued, her brows furrowing and her lips forming a thin line, much like Minerva would do. But this expression was not anger. It was pain. Regret. "I felt… so relieved. I wanted to hug her."

And that was surprising in and of itself. Rebecca did not touch another human being willingly, much like himself. She shied away from touch for the most part. She was even known to go into panic attacks, such as when they'd had to make their memories for the Dark Lord.

"But I knew I couldn't just leave, not with her confessing something of that caliber," Rebecca said, looking down at her feet. "So before I left the classroom, I Obliviated her memory of our conversation. Hopefully, she won't even remember that I'm a spy. She'll think I'm just… yours. Tom's. Not Dumbledore's. It was for her own protection. But I'm still upset at what I had to do."

"And that's why you weren't in class," Severus said.

Rebecca nodded.

"Damn Minerva and her bloody Gryffindor loyalty," Severus muttered, looking down at his desk. Then he glanced back up once more, glaring at Rebecca. "And damn you for being so much like a Gryffindor."

He looked Rebecca up and down, but she made no move. He stood and walked around his desk, approaching her.

"You're more like a Hufflepuff now," he said, upper lip raising at the word. "So meek, mild, breaking down at the slightest problem in her plan…"

"I'm not weak," Rebecca said firmly, looking up at him through her bangs of fiery red. The tops of her emerald eyes were sparkling now.

He had her going. Now if he could just get her angry once more, perhaps she would snap out of whatever emotions she was feeling and become focused once more on the task at hand.

"I said nothing of Hufflepuffs being weak," Severus continued. "In fact, I find that your personality change has made you lesser than a Hufflepuff. They wouldn't snivel nearly as much."

A low blow, he knew. But Rebecca needed to get back to herself again, even if that meant putting up with her arrogance. That was better than what stood before him. Arrogance eventually could be molded into confidence. But this…

"You will surely perish before the Dark Lord should you show him what you've become in a matter of days," he said, shaking his head. "And I've worked too hard to have you murdered now."

"My death would just be a damper on your plans, then?"

Her voice was deadly low, and so even he almost didn't notice the ire sparking the flame in her eyes again.

"More or less."

Severus drew himself up to his full height, looking down his nose at her. This situation reminded him of the night he'd gotten her to actually be successful in her Legilimency lessons. When would she ever learn that his baiting her was just another of his ploys?

The silence that fell in the room, Severus noticed, penetrated everything. It was unnerving, even for him. And the way that she stared. Her green eyes had always been like looking into the past, just as Harry Potter's eyes had been the first time he saw them. But her eyes held something else to them that Potter's did not. It was not that they looked so much like Lily's, but it was… the something that separated them from Lily's.

Perhaps she had learned a bit too much from him.

"My apologies for not being made of sterner stuff," she said finally. Though the tone in her voice had changed to sounding calmer, her defensive posture remained the same. "I'll do my best to become a Slytherin once more."

"It is not your 'try' that I want," Severus said, stepping towards her once more, pressing into her personal space. "It is your actions that I need. Do you understand the direness of our situation?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

"The Dark Lord prepares for our nuptials," he continued, raising his voice once more. "Whether they be next week or next year, we will never know. He plans much bigger things for the two of us, and we must be prepared for him. He will not have me drag around a broken, battered-looking wife to bear the children of his new generation."

Rebecca's face went white. "Children?"

"What did you think his planning our relationship would have ended with?" Severus asked, baring his teeth. "You're not thinking enough steps ahead, girl. I have given you the tools that you need, and you have the basic aptitude to be a great Slytherin, a great spy, and an even better faux Death Eater. You already proved as much when you defeated Bellatrix Friday evening."

He stared down his nose at her, watching her slowly look up at him. The helpless look was no longer there. She was beginning to come back to herself. Good. He had little time for pep talks.

Severus let the silence fall once more. This time the room was much less tense. Rebecca was thinking, he could see. And thinking was better than what she'd been doing, which was wallowing in her own self-pity.

Finally, she looked up, smirking. "I'm glad I let you goad me into getting angry with you."

It nearly made him smile. But he stopped, forcing himself to give her a look. She had known all this time what he'd been doing.

"And here I thought you a Hufflepuff," he said.

A full smile came to her face. And he was sorry to admit that it felt like a reward, the way the relief washed over him. Quickly, he shoved those thoughts aside.

"Get back to your common room and make certain Draco sees you," Severus said by way of dismissal. "You've done enough damage for one day with your sobbing."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, but turned to face the door once more. It had been less than ten minutes since she'd come upstairs, but if others thought she'd been with Severus nearly all afternoon, well… she didn't really need to stay long after dinner.

As she made her way down to the dungeons, Rebecca thought about his need to feel as though he was manipulating her when he was really trying to make her get ahold of herself. Was this just a Slytherin thing, or perhaps something just unique to Severus? After thinking on it for a moment, she decided it was a trait of his. He was emotionally stunted, for the most part, with difficulty expressing his feelings or thoughts to others.

But his harsh words always hid something. And she couldn't help but wonder what that was.

Suddenly, her mind drifted back to the kiss. A rush of warmth filled her, but she shook her head at it, as if that would make the unusual sensation go away. And then she thought of how caring he had been of her Friday night, even after she'd broken his mirror. Had he replaced it? She would need to ask him the next time she saw him.

And her Patronus… would it ever return to its original form? She knew what it meant when a Patronus changed its form wholly. She'd discovered that when Tonks had fallen in love with Remus. And now she understood that Severus' Patronus was a mimicry of Lily Evans' own Patronus, because of his love for her. Love. That was what the Patronus' shape boiled down to, it seemed. Or, at least, a Patronus took a powerful emotion such as love to get it to change shape. A Patronus was something essential to you; it was an incarnation of your soul in animal form.

But did her Patronus attempting to change mean that she loved Severus? The thought waded slowly through her mind as she considered it from all angles. She didn't know. Rebecca had never loved someone romantically, so the feelings were foreign to her. She loved Harry, Ron, and Hermione like she should have loved her family. But her father had made that impossible. Her mother and brother's aloofness to her for the majority of her life had also possibly stunted her in this respect.

She had loved Alastor, Albus, and Sirius. She loved Tonks and Remus, and already loved their unborn child. She loved all of the professors. And she was growing to love the Malfoys, their protective streak for family, and their love for one another.

But none of those seemed remotely close to what she felt when she thought about Severus. But what did that mean?

Answers not found in books were very frustrating, indeed.

* * *

_First Lesson on Torture/Helping Ollivander, November 15, 1997_

After Rebecca allowed Severus to pick up her spirit once more, the week went by quickly. In return, her scheduled meeting with Tom drew soon upon her. The thought of seeing him once more made her nervous. The fact that he scheduled this meeting with her instead of Summoning her said something, and she had been trying to puzzle it out. Severus proved to be of little help, as he was in a constant state of being buried in paperwork or overseeing detentions.

Rebecca's own help to the student body had been extended, and she still did what she could, though it was minimal. Every so often, she would pass by the Room of Requirement, Neville would appear, and she would tell him who next needed to go inside the safe walls. That meant she was always out late at night, but being Head Girl had its perks. And the Carrows left her alone for the most part anymore, especially since her display with Bellatrix the Friday night beforehand.

As she made her way out the Entrance Hall and onto the grounds (Severus had not been invited on her outing to Malfoy Manor to see Tom), she thought on what this meeting could mean. Tom wouldn't not use the Dark Mark to show her kindness. The Dark Mark was painful, and had throbbed dully for most of the week. Now it sat idly upon her forearm, staining her skin. The Mark itself looked deformed because of her scar underneath it. The fangs and tongue of the snake looked grotesque, unruly, and the skull took on a three-dimensional look. She sometimes studied it at night, but she could never become desensitized to it.

So, no, Tom would not spare her the pain that came along with being Summoned. That would mean he held some sort of kindness still in his heart, and Rebecca wasn't certain he had enough of one for that to be true. The other option was he was saving her first Summoning for something important, as if it were another test of her loyalty. Or of their bond. That sounded Slytherin enough for her, she decided as she reached the end of the wards. The feeling of safety left her as Rebecca raised her wand to Apparate. With a sigh, she focused on Malfoy Manor, then disappeared with a "crack!"

She reappeared moments later before the gates, waving her left arm before them. She walked through the gates, just as Severus had done their first time here. The Dark Mark had interesting side effects. Rebecca was certain all of its properties would never truly be discovered. She kept that thought on the backburner as she drew the spy face over her own.

The front door opened for her, a house elf standing at attention. This one was new, not one that had lived here when she'd stayed at Malfoy Manor over the summer. She entered and it shut the door behind her. Rebecca raised an eyebrow at the creature. It lowered its gaze and bowed, motioning towards the great room just off the entryway.

Rebecca strode past the elf. Normally, she would never be anything but polite and kind to the creatures. But that was not how a Death Eater would act. Hopefully she would not feel the wrath of this particular house elf.

Were all of the house elves new? What did that mean for the ones who'd lived here just this past summer? Did that mean Tom had already killed all of them, or were the Malfoys merely due for another house elf?

Too much thinking, she scolded herself, forcing her eyes back into focus as she entered the room with Tom.

The great room was noticeably colder, as was any room Voldemort resided in. She wasn't sure if that was a reaction of his powerful Dark magic or if it was just a psychological thing. But now was not the time to determine that.

Rebecca gave a great, sweeping bow as she approached Tom. "My Lord," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Come," he replied, gesturing towards his body with his hand.

Rebecca stood quickly and went to him, the spy mask firmly attached to her face. Outside, she appeared happy at his presence, at his want of her closer to him. She looked especially happy when he took her left wrist and shoved the fabric of her robe up past her elbow, revealing the Dark Mark, still shining with its newness.

Voldemort looked at it for a few, long moments. Then he pressed his thumb to the center of it, directly at the opening of the skull's mouth. Rebecca felt her knees collapse underneath her as pain shot through every nerve in her body. Her mouth opened slightly in a silent scream, perhaps a plea for him to stop. But neither of those would have worked on him, so whatever the sound would have been caught in her throat. She shut her mouth. All Rebecca could do was stare, eyes wide open and beginning to water, as the pain continued.

Then he removed his thumb, and the pain disappeared. He let go of her arm. Rebecca did not cradle the appendage as she might have once done. She got up, her legs feeling shaky underneath her. But she forced herself to stand, though she did not meet Tom's eye.

Voldemort watched her, feeling a grin forming. Rebecca Felan knew better than to ask questions when it was not the time for them. The way Severus had described her before Voldemort himself had gotten a chance to meet her, he assumed she would be a non-stop chatterbox like so many schoolgirls of her age. But she was different, and she always would be. Particularly now.

"Our connection already grows strong," he said finally. "Does this please you?"

"Of course, my Lord," Rebecca said, bowing her head. "Thank you."

He gave a slight nod of his head. Her eyes followed him, watching him from underneath her hair hanging before her face. Something she had picked up from Severus. Evidently, Tom noticed this similarity; he gave a bit of a smile. It would never cease to be threatening, unnerving, inhuman.

"Do you know what we're to do this evening, Rebecca?"

"No, my Lord, nor would I care to guess. Your genius is far superior to mine."

He didn't smirk at that, so Rebecca wasn't sure if she went too far or not. He wasn't displeased by the remark, as he continued.

"You did so well with the traitor Charity Burbage, that I thought I would give you another task," Voldemort continued. "I want to train the natural affinity I see within you for… getting necessary information out of those who do not wish to cooperate."

Torture. Why didn't he just say it? Rebecca thought harshly.

"That would please me greatly, my Lord," she said immediately. "I cannot think of a better teacher."

"Besides your Severus, of course," Voldemort replied with what sounded like a chuckle, but might have also been a cough.

Rebecca didn't respond, unsure of what would be proper. Instead, she looked down, neither letting a blush come to her cheeks or for her face to emote in any sort of way. His fingers were suddenly upon her chin, drawing her face up to look him directly in the eyes.

"How is life with dear Severus?" he asked suddenly, and she could feel the pull of his Legilimency.

But she was ready for him. Always was she on her guard when Tom was around. She showed him memories she had not yet shown him, those she and Severus had just created over the past couple of days in hasty minutes he'd had to spare. To Rebecca, their encounters held a different air to them, but that was edited out, which meant she could ponder the feelings at a later time. And then she showed him the proposal.

Voldemort drew away from her, releasing her from his mental hold. Rebecca panted at the effort of having the Dark wizard search through her mind. He was not as skilled a Legilimens as everyone believed. His magic was more of brute force. Brute force could always be overcome by subtly, by finesse, something she had learned from Severus and Albus both.

"Does this turn of events please you?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And your future husband?" Voldemort asked, his eyes narrowing suddenly. "Does he please you?"

The silence was almost too long. Rebecca realized she'd been taking the question seriously.

"Very much, my Lord," she finally said. "He is… the best I could ever hope for."

Voldemort was very quiet for a moment. "Before you willingly came to join us, I informed Severus of a suspicion that I had of you, Rebecca."

He paced a little before her, and Rebecca stayed completely silent and stock still.

"I knew that you had a devotion to him, and that you were bonded to him by magic because he saved your life that night of our first meeting," he continued, looking upon her without a shred of regret in his look or tone. "But I asked Severus if you _loved_ him. He said he did not know."

Rebecca felt the blood draining from her fingers and toes. But she dared not fidget before Voldemort.

"I suspected that you did. Suspect you still do, even after everything that you went through."

"My love for you and your will, my Lord, is much stronger," Rebecca said quickly, her voice breathy.

"That I am certain of," Voldemort said, holding up a hand to silence her. "I would not have allowed you to enter my group of esteemed Death Eaters had you merely been in love with one of my best servants. Your love of my vision is what I have always admired. Your loyalty, though a Gryffindor quality, is steadfast in its nature. And that is to be lauded in such a follower as you."

"Thank you, my Lord," Rebecca answered quietly.

"Do not fool yourself that Severus loves you in return," he said suddenly, his voice turning deeper. "He merely sees you as useful."

"I would never fool myself as such," Rebecca said. "The knowledge of his lack of affection towards me could never break my love and devotion to you, my Lord."

Voldemort suddenly rounded upon her, his face much closer than Rebecca had ever wanted it to be. His lack of nose made the distance uncomfortably closer. She could see the slits rise and fall with his breath. But she held her position, even knowing that she trembled slightly. He would enjoy that.

"You will be my best Death Eater yet," he said quietly, voice shaking as if in anticipation. "Both you and Severus will see my vision through this coming year. Once _I_ have killed Harry Potter, once I have complete control of the Mudbloods and muggles of England, then it will be time for my most faithful followers to be rewarded."

"Thank you, my Lord," Rebecca said, lowering her head slightly as he moved away from her a few inches. She could feel the sweat beginning to pool on her forehead.

And then he was back, his hands outstretched. Rebecca could feel the panic trying to take her as she watched his clawed hands, pale and veiny, reaching for her stomach. Her breathing picked up, her eyes widened, but she quickly got a hold of her mind trying to run away with the possible scenarios of the next few moments.

His fingers caressed her stomach through her robes, his second hand holding the small of her back against his touch. It was in no way sexual. The way his hands touched her was that of… an expecting father. It was excitement. The whole room went silent, and Rebecca didn't breath, afraid her sudden movement would make him angry somehow.

"You will be the mother of the next generation of my followers," Voldemort continued, his voice low with power. "Together, you and Severus will create the most powerful full-blooded children that this world will know. It will be your bloodlines that will help to repopulate the wizarding world, to carry it from the brink of extinction and to replenish our power in this world once more."

With each syllable, the words came faster from his lips. But his face remained the same. His excitement made the magic about him spark, and Rebecca was caught up in it. Her Dark Mark began to pulse with the power Tom was giving off. Or maybe she could feel it between their new link. It was difficult to tell.

"It is your children, your grandchildren, and their children, who will continue to serve me, will continue to repopulate our world. Your power, their power, will be the Mudbloods' and muggles' undoing."

His hand grasped her stomach and back more tightly with each second.

Rebecca just wanted him to stop touching her stomach, to stop standing so close to her. His teeth were bared in what was perhaps a grin of triumph, but only made her heart beat all the more rapidly in her chest. She could pass that off as excitement. Forcing herself, Rebecca smiled.

"My Lord, that will be my highest honor," she said, dropping to her knees and hanging her head. "Thank you for this opportunity."

"Up."

The word was flat, and when Rebecca did as he commanded, she saw his features were once more set.

"Until then, I cannot risk bringing your children into this world, especially with Harry Potter still alive," he said, his tone indicating this was an order. "No matter how you may wish to please me, you are not to conceive until I tell you."

Voldemort understood the threat, but would not speak it aloud. Rebecca nodded.

"Very good." He turned to a dark hallway Rebecca knew led to the basement. "Now, we shall continue with our lessons for the day."

"Yes, my Lord," Rebecca said, following him quickly.

Down the dark stairs the two of them went, Rebecca keeping at Tom's heels. She could smell the dampness of the air the farther down they went. It pressed against her lungs, but she kept herself calm and breathing.

Finally, they reached the bottom level, where the Malfoy dungeons resided. Lucius had informed her earlier that summer that these dungeons hadn't been used in a long time, not since even his father had been alive. But Rebecca could now clearly see a figure inside the cell.

Voldemort lifted his wand, the Elder Wand. Rebecca watched him. Seeing Albus' wand in the hands of the Dark Lord was… wrong.

Light spread over the dungeons, and the figure inside the cell moved, blocking the light with his arms and hands.

"I've brought you a visitor, Garrick," Voldemort said with that strange grin of his.

Rebecca felt her brows furrow at the name she could have sworn she'd heard somewhere before. But the pile of rags before her, limp and pale in the wand light, looked nothing like anyone that she had ever encountered. Slowly, she took out her own wand and approached the bars, feeling Voldemort's eyes upon her every movement.

She assumed the figure was a man from his height and the way the little weight he had left hung off of his body. The man's hand moved slightly, and from behind his fingers Rebecca could see bright, blue eyes. They reminded her of Albus'. There was a spark of recognition there as well.

"Alder wood with a dragon heartstring core, ten and a half inches, fairly firm," the man recited shakily.

Ollivander.

Rebecca kept her face neutral. "That's right," she said evenly. "You sold me this wand seven years ago."

"I told you… that you would do great things with it, despite the fact that you are a muggleborn," Ollivander finished.

With a flick of her wrist and a coldness to her features that would have terrified those of the other Houses, Rebecca cast _Levicorpus_, drawing Ollivander up by his ankle into the air. Another flick saw Ollivander's mouth shut.

"Unfortunately, 'great' does not necessary define those actions as being all good," Rebecca said with a bit of a smirk.

Behind her, Voldemort chuckled. She felt his fingers upon her shoulder as he leaned closer to her.

"He has knowledge that I desire," he whispered into her ear. "His will is much stronger than I anticipated."

"What do you need to know, my Lord?" Rebecca asked, turning her head ever so slightly so that she could look upon Voldemort. A shiver went up her spine at his close proximity.

The Elder Wand was suddenly before her. From this close, Rebecca could see the fine detailing the wand held. Circular grooves were upon almost its entire surface. The wood was dark, and she could even see the knots from the elder tree it had once been formed from.

"My wand is powerful, indeed," Voldemort said, his voice very low and precise. "But it is not the same power the stories speak of. I need to know why. And the Master Wandmaker will not speak."

His red eyes landed upon Ollivander, whose arms hung limply past his head. A look of resignation passed over his features.

"I have my own theories, naturally," he continued, standing up straight and approaching the entrance to the cell. "However, I would like a second opinion before I do anything drastic."

The door opened with very little movement on his part. Voldemort beckoned to Rebecca, and she followed him inside. He then shut the barred door once more.

"Your lessons begin tonight," he said, a note of finality in his tone. "I do not expect that you will get him to speak this evening. But should you get him to speak at all, you would make your Lord very happy."

"That would please me, my Lord," Rebecca said with a quick bow.

"First, his mouth should be free."

Rebecca released the hold of her spell. Ollivander's mouth remained shut, a stalwart expression upon his face.

And so the lesson began.

"There are finer points to the Cruciatus that you must learn to harness," Voldemort said. "You have performed it admirably in the past, and yours was powerful enough. However, there is a subtlety to the art of the Cruciatus that you are about to learn."

He took her wand hand in his and forced her to point it at Ollivander, who remained suspended in the air. Rebecca sent her features as she looked at the old man who'd never done her any harm, the man who'd given her this very wand that she was about to turn against him.

"Feel how your magic can control the curse," Voldemort said quietly, his hand still holding tightly to hers. "Cast the spell."

"_Crucio_," Rebecca said immediately.

More power than she had ever felt rushed through her wand arm, her left arm, and out the tip of her wand. Ollivander writhed in mid-air, crying out with the pain. His anguished cries did nothing to stop the power Rebecca felt. The curse had almost taken on a life of its own. She felt the Dark Mark pulsing on her arm.

"Stop."

Rebecca ended the spell, but did not pull away from his grip.

Voldemort turned to her, blocking Ollivander from view. Rebecca could hear his labored panting. He shoved the sleeve of her robe up once more, showing the undulating Mark upon her arm. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Learn to harness the control my Mark gives you over your spells, Rebecca," Voldemort said as she looked back up at him. "And you will be even more powerful than you could imagine. Few enough of my followers enjoy the Dark Mark, but even fewer understand how to truly use it."

He paused, looking at her very seriously. "Do not disappoint me."

"Never, my Lord," Rebecca whispered.

"Again."

He did not latch onto her hand this time, deciding to watch carefully as she used the Dark Mark to help her cast the Cruciatus over and over, each at varying lengths of time and quality of strength. Eventually, Voldemort had her drop Ollivander onto the unforgiving stone floor of Malfoy Manor in the hopes of getting him to talk. No matter what she did and no matter in what way she asked the question, she could not get Ollivander to speak.

It was frustrating for her because she worried for the wandmaker's safety. She didn't know how old he was, but she knew he wasn't a young man, though not as old as Albus had been. But no matter the harm that came to him, all Ollivander did was scream.

Perhaps Tom had set her up to fail. But he had said that he wanted to teach her the art of torture. Then again, Tom was the man you could least trust.

She had no idea how long she had been in the dungeons, but Tom suddenly called her to a halt when the door opened and Wormtail shuffled down the steps. Rebecca gave him a sneer, marking him as beneath her. He paid her no mind, bowing instead to Voldemort.

"My Lord, Snape is here to see you," he said, voice shaking slightly.

Voldemort bared his teeth, then turned sharply to Rebecca. "Stay here. Practice."

He pointed a long, clawed finger at Ollivander lying helplessly on the floor, chest heaving in and out. Rebecca stared at him as Voldemort turned back to Wormtail.

"Peter, show me to him."

The darkness in his voice was dangerous. Before he had even gotten out of the cell, Rebecca had begun to "practice" once more. The door at the top of the stairs shut with a loud clanging noise. Rebecca went to Ollivander's side and knelt by him, casting the privacy charm about them.

She looked over his scruffy, mangled appearance. He did not cower under her gaze. Instead, he held his chin higher.

"Do they give you food and water?" she asked evenly.

That question took him by surprise. He blinked, but said nothing.

"I assume you're trained in Occlumency of some kind," Rebecca continued. "That's how you've lasted this long. You've been missing since the end of last year."

Ollivander gave a small nod of his head.

"Judging from your appearance, they don't give you much," she said. "I'll do what I can." Her eyes gave him a once-over again. "I'm sorry."

At this he looked awestruck. Rebecca began to stand once more, but his hand caught hers in a tighter grip than she expected, though it was still weak.

"Knew… you were… destined… great things…"

His voice was quiet, just a hint of a whisper. Rebecca felt her lips form into a thin line at the attempt to keep calm. Ollivander let her hand go.

"Practice," he whispered, his eyes closing.

She did.

Severus escorted her back to Hogwarts, holding onto her possessively on their way out of Malfoy Manor. It gave her time to think under the guise of looking happy under Severus' arm. She continued to say nothing even when they were back on Hogwarts grounds. Even once safely inside the Headmaster's office, Rebecca continued her pensive look.

He sighed. "The Dark Lord was none too pleased that I had come to collect you."

"I imagine not," she said, her voice sounding far-off. "Why were you there anyway?"

"Delivering my weekly report to the Dark Lord," he said, "at an inconvenient time for him. However, it had been over an hour and I…"

Rebecca paused in her thinking and looked at him. In almost a perfect imitation of him, she raised an eyebrow. "Were you concerned for my safety?"

He rolled his eyes. "You have been less than stellar in your performance this week," he said. "I wasn't aware of what the Dark Lord had on the agenda for you this evening, so I wasn't aware how it would affect you."

"I can take care of myself, you know," Rebecca said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Naturally. Hence why you always seem to get into trouble when I'm not around."

He took a seat closer to the fire, waving in the direction of a second chair. Rebecca also took a seat, choosing not to respond to his last remark. It wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. She thought it sweet that he cared enough for her to risk his own neck, but it did not look well from Tom's perspective. But who was she to tell him this? Obviously he had already calculated the risks inside his own brilliant mind.

"Tell me what happened."

"I'd rather show you, actually."

He gave her an odd look, but obliged. The way Severus performed Legilimency was much different from Tom's. Severus was much gentler; you almost didn't even know he was there. He watched the memory of what had just occurred before retreating into his own mind.

"Ollivander's an Occlumens."

Rebecca nodded. "I assume you have no problem with me trying to help him?"

"If he has lasted this long…" Severus shook his head. "Do what you can for him."

"Of course."

She waited for him to say more. He had to see the importance of what Tom wanted from Ollivander. But he said nothing, just sat in his chair quietly. He didn't even look like he was thinking.

"Severus, why do you think Tom wants this information about his wand so badly?"

"There is no telling why the Dark Lord wants to know _anything_," Severus said.

"Why are you evading the question?" Rebecca asked, sitting forward in her seat.

"Because I choose not to answer it."

His eyes widened for just a moment, enough to let Rebecca see the majority of the whites. Against the blackness of iris, it was rather frightening. A slight twitch in his cheek also signaled his rising irritation. She sat back in her chair, trying to calm her nerves.

"Fine." She gave him a sideways look. "Aren't you going to ask me how I'm feeling?"

He half-glared at her, though his heart wasn't in it. Flatly, he replied, "How are you feeling?"

"Awful, thanks for asking." She pushed on the arms of the chair to help her stand. "And you're not being particularly helpful in alleviating my worry."

"That is not my job."

Rebecca turned to face him, standing only a couple of feet before his chair.

"No, but you said there were to be no more secrets between us, Severus."

"I am not keeping anything secret."

Rebecca glared at the stubborn man before her. "I trust you with my life. Do you understand that?"

He did not respond verbally, though he did choose to roll his eyes once more.

"You said you trusted me too."

The black eyes flicked over suddenly to look at her once more.

"Tell me."

"There is nothing to tell, stubborn Gryffindor," Severus growled, standing. "You're dismissed."

Rebecca left, only feeling aggravation.

* * *

_Another Talk with Ron, November 22, 1997_

Rebecca found herself back at Shell Cottage less than a month from her last visit. Severus had intercepted an owl from Bill Weasley, who requested that Rebecca return to them.

"Dunderhead didn't even put that many protection charms on it," Severus had muttered after handing her the letter.

Ron met her outside once more, Bill standing watch at the door, wand out and looking for any who might have followed her. Quickly, she was inside.

"This is the last time I can go off grounds," she said as they took a seat at the kitchen table. "Everyone will get suspicious if I disappear for too long, especially if people start to realize I'm not with Snape."

"I'm sorry," Ron said. "I… I just can't figure it out."

He showed her the Deluminator, the powerful magical object that appeared to be a normal, muggle cigarette lighter.

She shrugged. "Dumbledore didn't tell me how to work it," she said. "But he did say you would be able to figure it out. You just have to really want to get back to Harry and Hermione."

Ron frowned, slumping in his seat. Bill and Fleur came to take a seat at the table as well. The older Weasley looked sadly at his brother while Fleur watched Bill. Rebecca gave a tiny smile, realizing that many of them had been completely wrong about Fleur.

"When the war is over," Rebecca said, not realizing she'd begun to speak until her lips were moving, "I want to make a salve for scars. Would you like to help test it?"

Her eyes were on Bill, and had been for a while, examining his scars. He had been a victim of Greyback's too, though in a very different way. He blinked a few times, but slowly smiled.

"If I'm still here, I'd love to. Thanks, Rebecca."

"Oh, Bill, don't say zat!" Fleur said, putting a hand over his.

"I'm being realistic, love," he said quietly, running a thumb across her cheek.

The scene was touching, but Rebecca felt as though she was intruding. Clearly, Ron did too.

"How have things gone?" he asked suddenly.

Rebecca looked at Ron Weasley, and he felt as though he was being assessed for some quality or another that he wasn't sure he had. But Rebecca had always had that look about her. She was as smart as Hermione, but there had always been a differentness to her that all her friends recognized. It was Slytherin. That was the only thing he could describe it as, and the term fit her perfectly.

"Do you want the full truth, or the half-truth?" she asked.

Now she had Bill and Fleur's attentions as well, a difficult feat when they were wrapped up in themselves, Ron knew.

"You're my friend, Becca," Ron answered. "I know what you're doing is tough. But I want to know."

Rebecca gave him another long look before making a sudden movement. Her left arm hit the table, her sleeve up and forearm exposed. Her hand gripped into a fist, as if she was forcing herself to do this, but her face completely neutral. Ron's eyes widened at the Dark Mark glaring back up at him from her arm.

He slowly looked back up at her, eyes wide with… Well, this emotion was indefinable. Confusion, fear… but not hatred. She stared at Ron, unconcerned with Bill and Fleur's reactions, though Fleur was the only one of them who made a noise.

"Unfortunately, that's not the worst part," Rebecca said, her hand beginning to shake as she slowly flipped her fist over.

The band of white gold shone brightly even on her pale skin. The emerald made the most contrast.

"T-the Dark Lord won't have released this news yet," she said. "So it must be kept quiet, obviously…"

"Becca," Ron said, his own voice shaking with uncertainty, "is that…?"

"An engagement ring?" Bill asked.

She nodded.

"To Snape," Fleur said.

"Yes. He was ordered to take me as a wife once the war is over. Our children are supposed to be the next generation of the Dark Lord's most esteemed followers. He wants to replenish the wizarding world with our bloodlines because of our strong magic."

Visibly, Ron's whole frame was shaking. "You can't go back to that castle."

"I have to," Rebecca said firmly, pulling her arm into her lap and pushing her sleeve back down. "I'm still working for Albus."

"Snape—" He couldn't finish. His face was entirely red, almost matching the color of his hair. "Has he been…?"

"I'm not answering that question, Ronald Weasley," Rebecca said quietly. "And you cannot make me stay, no matter how much I may wish to. But I have a purpose where I am. I'm helping Ollivander. The Dark Lord's had him captive for over a year. I'm bringing him food and water where they will not. He'll need a place to stay once I've helped him to escape."

She looked to Bill and Fleur. "Would you be willing to offer the space you so kindly said was mine to Ollivander?" she asked. "He needs it much more than me."

Bill looked taken aback, but quickly looked to Fleur, who nodded. He then looked back to her. "We'd be glad to."

"I won't be able to send word," Rebecca said, nodding. "So be on the lookout for him. I'll give him the secret word—my middle name." She glanced at Ron. "D'you still remember it?"

"'Course I do!" he said, arms folded across his chest.

"Ron." Her voice was quiet.

Her friend stood abruptly, moving towards the back of the kitchen. Rebecca stood and followed him, finally catching up to him in the living room of the cottage and tugging at his arm until he was forced to turn around and face her.

"Please don't be angry with me," she said quietly, knowing that she was pleading. At this moment, she didn't care.

"I'm not angry with you, Becca," he said. "I'm angry because I can't help you. None of us can. I feel useless. And if something happens to you, I won't forgive myself. Harry won't forgive me. Hermione won't."

He looked away, trying to hide the terror and frustration on his face. And something else—sadness.

"We've stuck by each other for seven years, Becca" he said. "All four of us have. We've helped each other out of some pretty bad situations. Now you're taking on something that we can't be a part of."

"But you are a part of this, Ron," Rebecca said. "Your job is to kill the horcruxes. My job is to take down Death Eaters one by one from the inside. When we get to the final battle, Harry will have no problems killing the Dark Lord because we worked together—just not like we used to."

Ron stared at her. "Merlin, Becca." He shook his head. "How can you be so calm about all of this?"

"I have a lot of time to think," she replied.

Ron stepped towards her and gave her a hug once more. "I'll find my way back to them. Then I'll tell Phineas Nigellus where we are, and he can tell you."

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Rebecca said quietly, smiling.

Ron managed a chuckle and pulled away. "Get on with you, then," he said, waving his arm at her. "Before I change my mind and force you to come back with us."

She saw the gleam in his eyes as she turned to enter the kitchen. To hide her own tears, she shut her eyes tightly before turning around to face him once more at the entrance to the kitchen.

"Ron."

He looked up at her, looking very much older than he really was.

"Hurry up and tell Hermione you love her, all right?"

Rebecca laughed as a pillow flew in her direction, but she scurried out of the way before saying goodbye to Bill and Fleur for what she hoped wouldn't be the last time.


	12. Seventh Year, Late November to May

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Rebecca and don't plan on making any money off of this. If anything sounds familiar at all in this chapter, it's taken from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._**_  
_

**__Author's Note:** Finally, the end of Chapter 7! *blows kazoo, throws confetti* A lot of the Battle of Hogwarts was left intact with some changes made. Hopefully you all like what's here. I enjoy comments. The next chapters are where everything come directly from my mind.

* * *

_The Doe Patronus, December 26, 1997_

So far, the only thing Rebecca had done during the winter holidays was to anger Tom. She couldn't find the students that he believed were still hiding in Hogwarts somewhere. She also didn't manage to get any information from the capture Luna Lovegood about the students' whereabouts. Luna also would not tell where her father's home was, as it was Unplottable and held a Secret Keeper who was clearly not Luna. The younger Ravenclaw hadn't flinched when Rebecca was torturing her for the information, nor when she told Tom that she didn't know where Luna's home was.

Though she did. You could see it from the Burrow if the day was clear and you were looking out the right window near the top level. But she wouldn't tell Tom that. And Luna took notice. Once they were alone, she muttered a "thank you" before passing out. Ollivander promised he would take care of her as best he could, and Rebecca promised that she would get them more food than the meager meals they fed Ollivander to keep his barely alive.

So her favor, while flimsy, was still intact for the most part. Tom was just not pleased, but there was little she could do about it. The students could not be found, even though she and Severus did their best to search for them.

"If they're in the Room of Requirement, we cannot get to them," Severus finally said to Tom one evening. "We can position someone outside of it forever, but if they are in that room, they will never need to come out."

That had earned Severus a sound Cruciatus, and Rebecca needed to help him back to the castle and into the lavatory. That was where he'd barked at her to leave him be and slammed the door in her face.

It had been a rough holiday so far, and Rebecca was not looking forward to the rest of the year. But she could weather it if Severus would stop becoming more and more sour as the days progressed. Even their time spent in silence felt strained, and she hated that. But it couldn't be helped. Severus was a difficult man to peg down, and Rebecca wondered if she would ever be able to do so.

Late the night before, Rebecca and Severus were sitting in his office. They had become accustomed to sitting, reading—or Rebecca doing her homework for holiday break while Severus read—since it was expected they would almost never be out of one another's sight during the break. Both of them clutched their left forearms at the same moment. The sensation was almost an explosion, the same pain that she had felt when Tom had first branded her with the Mark.

When they finally arrived at Malfoy Manor, Tom was slinging spells and curses with abandon, letting out cries that were incoherent in his rage. Everyone in his Inner Circle received a few curses that night. Harry Potter and his Mudblood friend had escaped again, and the redhead Weasley, the blood traitor, had not been with them.

"Find the Weasley boy!" Tom had shouted at them all. "Find him and you will have Harry Potter knocking down all barriers to get to him."

He had turned upon Rebecca then, grabbing her by both her shoulders and squeezing. Rebecca looked up at him, showing her fear but also defiance.

"You will go on the radio this evening, Rebecca Felan, and call to Weasley to give himself up to the Ministry," he spat. "You will sound desperate, and you will sound defeated. They know you are my captive, that you are still at Hogwarts, but they will believe that you are miserable." He shook her.

"Yes, my Lord," she said quickly. "It would be my pleasure."

And that is what she did, calling out to her friend to lure both him and her other friends into the clutches of the most powerful Dark wizard of this century. But she knew they would not come. Hermione would convince Harry that it was a ploy, a trap, and Bill would do the same for Ron. But she had done her job, and Tom was pleased with her, even going so far as to stroke her hair as her gift for doing her job well.

When she and Severus returned to Hogwarts and were safely secure in his office, Rebecca made a face.

"I want to cut off all my hair," she muttered. "Just so he'll stop touching it."

Severus had been standing next to her in the doorway, then looked down at her and raised an eyebrow at her statement. Slowly, his hand came up to touch her hair for a brief instant before he had turned away.

"A pity," she heard him mutter.

But she didn't ask for clarification on that statement. He had already been walking away, and it would only get him more aggravated with her. For now, she would take the possible compliment and sit in silence.

And that was what they did until the next night, when Phineas Nigellus sprinted into his portrait.

"I know where they are!" he shouted.

Ron wasn't with them yet, it turned out, but Harry and Hermione were not doing too well without him. Slowly, they were falling apart because of the new shared load with the Horcrux and their almost getting caught the night before.

"And Potter's angry because he wants to rescue you and then find his other friend, Ronald," Phineas explained.

"You must take the sword to them now, Severus," Albus' portrait said.

"I'm coming with you," Rebecca said, clutching Severus' arm as he made to turn and get the sword. "You promised."

"I don't have time to argue with you. Put on your cloak and hurry up."

His tone was even, but she knew the anger lay just underneath. Rebecca did as he said, and soon they were on their way, under a Disillusionment charm.

They arrived at the forest destination Phineas had told them about. Both were very quiet. Severus held the sword of Godric Gryffindor loosely as they left, looking extremely uncomfortable doing even that. Finally, he tapped her on the shoulder. The snow was falling gracefully by this point, and it was frigid outside. But Rebecca was pleased to be here, to be able to catch a glimpse of her friends to make sure they were all right.

"The pond," he whispered. Rebecca's immediately spotted the small thing, just in front of them. "Stay here."

Rebecca remained where she was, holding onto the edges of the tree and watching, waiting. Suddenly, the top of the ice cracked open, and a hole large enough for the sword opened up in the ice. Severus placed the sword in the water, and it was soon out of sight, sinking to the bottom of the pond. He covered the ice over once more. He couldn't make it too easy for the boy, and what if another person, as unlikely as that was, came along through this area before he was able to send his Patronus to Potter?

He made his way back to Rebecca. She must have heard him coming, for her hand reached out to find his own. Severus gave a huff and offered her his shoulder instead, which her fingers gently clamped onto.

"Now to find Potter," he whispered.

"That way," Rebecca replied quietly, nudging him slightly north.

"Did you have him chipped with a homing device? How very muggle of you."

"No, just a feeling."

Severus rolled his eyes, but set off in that direction anyway. They did come upon a clearing, but could see nothing. But Rebecca held still, so Severus didn't move as well. Suddenly, Potter came charging out of nothingness. Rebecca's hand on his shoulder clenched tighter, and he could feel her excitement growing as she stood beside him.

"Easy," he muttered, pulling her back into the trees.

Potter stood outside the wards Granger had most likely created. He remained there, looking angry, but thinking.

Severus slowly took out his wand and recalled his happy memory once more. The white light shot from his wand and went to Potter, slowly forming into the doe shape as if from nothingness. Rebecca watched on, hands covering her mouth. The Patronus was still as beautiful as she had been the first time Rebecca had seen her. Now, she slowly approached Harry, watching him watch her.

Then she turned, slowly leading him to the pond where Severus hid the sword. The doe turned to look at Harry once more, then disappeared. Beside her, she felt Severus' tension leave him. Harry looked on, confused for a moment, then peered into the pond. He must have seen the sword, as he began shrugging off his clothing quickly, taking his wand from his trouser pockets.

Soon, he was blasting the ice away. He tried to call the sword up to him with magic, but it didn't work. He muttered to himself. Harry must have known that wouldn't work, for without another pause, he dropped his wand onto his trousers and dove into the frigid water. He popped up above the water, gasping for breath.

Rebecca started forward, but Severus grabbed both of her shoulders and pressed down, holding her in place.

"Stop it," he whispered. "Potter must do this on his own."

Harry went underwater. Rebecca held her breath, as if she were giving her friend breath by doing so. It had been nearly a full minute, and she began pulling against Severus' grasp.

"Leave him, witch," Severus hissed.

"If he dies, how is he supposed to defeat Tom?" Rebecca asked. "Let me go!"

But out of nowhere, a huge crashing sound came from the bushes. Rebecca looked up to see Ron running toward the pond, having spotted the clothing lying on the bank in the snow. Rebecca grinned, watching as Ron pulled off his own shirt and dove in after Harry.

She watched tensely for a moment, but Ron pulled both Harry and the sword to safety. Ron gave a wave of his wand, and Harry soon began coughing up water that he had swallowed.

"My duty is done," Severus whispered close to her ear. His close proximity set her on edge, but not in the manner that others being close to her did. Her heart beat faster, and her blood rushed through her veins, but there wasn't fear there, not even the slightest.

"We must go," he continued, tugging on her arm.

"Just a minute more," she said. "I have to make sure they're all right."

"Potter lives, Weasley is with him, and Granger is not far off," Severus said, pulling her against him in his struggle to get her to move. "They do not need you, Rebecca. Not until they need to be saved once more."

Harry and Ron were talking, Ron looking sorry and pathetic as the two of them scrambled back into their clothing. But they were safe enough here. All they had to do was begin destroying the Horcruxes.

"Fine," Rebecca said, turning. But Severus had not moved, and she'd run into him.

They both paused for a moment, and she recalled that they had not been so close to one another since her induction into the Inner Circle, when they'd had to kiss. She imagined all she had to do was tip her head upward…

"Your clumsiness will be your death," Severus whispered. She could all but see him sneering.

He pulled away, grasping her wrist and pulling her along behind him. They were back at the castle once more, silent. And no longer invisible to the other.

This was why there was so much anger coming from him, Rebecca realized. Because he felt whatever was between them too, and he didn't like it. She wished they could talk about this, but all that would succeed in doing is forcing Severus into giving her the silent treatment once more, or perhaps more yelling. And she was so tired of getting yelled at from all angles.

"Thank you," she said finally. "For taking me with you. It meant a lot, seeing them safe."

She looked to him, hoping she could see the gratitude on her face. Severus was staring at her, giving her one of his penetrating stares.

"Yes. You would never have let me rest otherwise," he said, shuffling papers on his desk.

Rebecca settled on the couch in front of the fire, opening her Charms book. She wouldn't get much more out of him tonight. But he knew she was grateful, and that's all that mattered.

She understood what this was that she felt for him. Love. The emotion Albus had held over all others, the one that could protect. Certainly Severus was aware of this affection. That was why he was so irritable. But perhaps it was more complex. Rebecca didn't think that he would love her in return, not for the reason that Tom had said, but because he still held feelings for Harry's mum.

Everything made sense when she thought of Severus loving Lily Potter. Why he continued to protect Harry, why he had thought she was Lily and begged her forgiveness, why his worst memory was calling her a Mudblood… it all fit. And it made sense why he'd wanted to protect her, at first. But she knew that Severus saw them as two completely different people. He had never even seemed to slip when calling her by name, and he did not treat her much differently from other students, despite all her different qualities.

And his Patronus was a doe, what Lily's had turned into when she began to love James Potter. Though he was a difficult man to understand, Rebecca did know that his Patronus would not normally be a doe. She had little chance at standing up against his perfect memory of Lily Evans, not when he knew every single fault of her own.

Did Harry know? she wondered. Probably not. He was oblivious to most things. Well, she wasn't going to be the one to tell him.

She looked upon Severus Snape, who stared so intently at his paperwork that she thought it might explode. And she smiled a little before looking down at her Charms book. This situation was so completely nutters, she wanted to laugh aloud. But she kept silent, not wanting to disturb him. When this war was over, she would tell him. And then she would just have to see what happened.

* * *

_Severus' Birthday, January 9, 1998_

It was a careful arrangement, this meeting at Malfoy Manor, but at least it would be small. Just the Malfoys, Rebecca, and Severus. Those were really the only people who mattered.

But before they could settle for dinner, Voldemort had called upon Severus to ask him a few questions. Then he called Rebecca into the room.

"Does she not look splendid in her new dress, Severus?" Tom asked, eyes alight with some humor only he understood.

Severus looked to Rebecca, her brown silk dress picking up the little light in the room and shimmering. Her hair was done up nicely, held up with ornate hair clips that complemented her dress. The makeup she never usually wore subtly graced her features, and she tried to give him an easy smile. The dress was a halter top, showing off more skin than he knew she was comfortable with, but she wore it, and the brown heels, well. Narcissa had done a good job picking out a dress that would suit her.

"I am pleased with my wife-to-be," Severus said evenly, turning back to the Dark Lord to let him see the spark of interest in his eye. Not entirely faked, he unfortunately noted.

"She has a gift for you, I believe," Voldemort continued. "Give it to him, Rebecca. I'm sure Severus would appreciate it."

Rebecca's eyes flicked between Tom and Severus, but she stepped forward, small gift held in her hands. She presented it to him.

Severus took the gift from her, his fingers sliding over her own as he took the small thing from her hands. He watched her for a moment before undoing the bow, then slowly lifted the lid of the box.

"What is it, Severus?" Voldemort asked.

Severus blinked. "A nameplate, my Lord," he replied, barely able to speak. His eyes shot upward, trying to meet Rebecca's, but she stood there looking proud, chin held high. She should have consulted him first.

"A nameplate?" Voldemort asked, smiling widening. "What does it say?"

Severus waited just a moment before looking back to the Dark Lord. "Severus Marvolo Snape."

"It will go on our son's crib," Rebecca said, stepping forward and placing her hand upon his own. "A strong name for the strongest of our Lord's new followers."

She looked to Tom, smiling. Her eyes held the reservation she felt at such a bold move. But that was why he liked her. She made the moves first and asked questions later, not asking permission before jumping to conclusions.

Voldemort seemed to waiver between many emotions. Finally, he decided to chuckle. "A name I find little fault with," he said. "But before you name any other children you have, you will speak with me first, Rebecca."

His voice dropped a few octaves, his eyes getting a hint of a dark gleam to them. Rebecca quickly lowered her head in a mini-bow.

"Yes, my Lord."

"I will leave you to your festivities," Voldemort said, sweeping past them. "Other duties call me elsewhere."

Rebecca and Severus bowed as he left. Once he was gone, Severus turned to her, sneering.

"You wish to get yourself killed, witch!" he growled, holding the package tightly. "You should have consulted me before doing something so rash."

"And then miss out on the look on your face?" Rebecca asked with a raised eyebrow.

"This is not a laughing matter, Rebecca," Severus said, taking her upper arm in a tight grasp.

"Of course not," Rebecca said. "But he has to believe I'm all about this, doesn't he? And what better way to do that then with a nameplate like that? It shows I'm still defiant, that I care about you, but that his name also holds precedence in our lives."

Severus shook his head, letting go of her arm. "Stupid chit."

"Be careful how you talk to your fiancé, _sir_," Rebecca said, taking the step forward so he would be forced to look at her. "Others might be listening."

He glared at her until she turned from him. "They'll be waiting for us," she said over her shoulder.

Dinner was a quiet affair, with all of them speaking of things that did not truly matter. It was tense, even without Tom there. Then, nearing the end, they loosened up slightly, from the attempt at a festive air or too much wine, it was difficult to tell. Finally, Narcissa brought out the cake that she had had the house elves make.

"Vanilla cake with buttercream icing," Narcissa said as the cake slowly floated to a stop in the middle of the table. "I know that your tastes are simple, Severus, but I figured you wouldn't mind the icing too much."

"You're too kind, Narcissa," Severus said with the hint of a smile on his lips.

Once the cake was consumed, the Malfoys gave Severus their present: a lovely new set of robes. They were black, of course, but the material was much finer.

"And you can be assured that they won't catch aflame should you wish to brew again," Lucius said.

Severus nodded his head. "I appreciate the gift. Thank you, Lucius, Narcissa, Draco."

"Now for my gift," Rebecca said with a smile.

"I've already seen your gift," Severus said, holding up a hand towards her.

"No you haven't," Rebecca replied, feigning confusion.

Severus looked to her, about to be very annoyed should she be trying to play this trick in front of the Malfoys. But she was holding a different box, something much longer and thinner. He took it from her carefully, watching her face for a moment. But true to what he'd taught her, she gave nothing away.

Severus unwrapped the present to behold a quill. It was magnificent. A long, black raven's feather, reflecting the light to show its undertones of dark blue and purple. The feathers were still completely straight, the point very fine and an almost ivory color, along with the scoop.

"I've charmed it myself," Rebecca said. "It's self-inking, so you won't have to worry about ink wells. I picked black, but you may change it to whatever color with the proper enchantment. The quill itself will not grow ragged from use, and the tip will always remain sharp."

The elder Malfoys made the appropriate noises of appreciation at the look of the quill. Draco gave Rebecca a look, but she paid him no mind. She was concentrated on Severus and his reaction.

"It is lovely," Severus said, placing the lid of the box back upon the quill. "I'll be certain to start using it tomorrow."

His words were flat, and she could not read him. Rebecca felt slightly deflated, but managed to get through the rest of the dinner relatively well enough. By the time she and Severus were back in his office, she was extremely quiet, thinking he was angry about the gift for some reason, though she couldn't fathom why.

But he turned to her, watching her. It took Rebecca a moment, but she finally met his gaze. He was only a few feet from her.

"You gave me two gifts," he said.

"Yes," Rebecca said. "A fake one and a real one."

"You didn't need to get either."

Rebecca gave a little snort. "Of course not, because Tom wouldn't expect me to give you a gift."

"You didn't need to get this," Severus said, holding up the box with the quill in it. "It cost too much."

"What it cost is none of your business, and it's rude of you to bring up the notion," Rebecca said, stepping forward. "All it cost me was time, something I was willing to give."

"Why?"

His eyes were intense as he closed the gap between them. His brows were furrowed, his lips turned into a frown, and his nostrils flaring. They were only a few inches from each other.

"Because I thought that you deserved something nice from me," Rebecca said quietly. "Because it's not as though you saved my life or anything, and continue to do so every day. Or that you don't comfort me in your own way, get me to do better every day, even at the cost to yourself and your life."

She finally looked up to him, meeting his gaze, which had not softened in the least bit.

"And I'm not taking back that quill," she said firmly. "So you can shut up and accept the gift and pretend you're grateful, you git."

She poked him in the chest with her finger before she even realized what she'd done. Severus stared at her, face in exactly the same expression that it was before her outburst. Finally, he held up the box and removed the quill.

"Let us see, then, how well it writes," he said, his words sounding somewhat clipped. But she could see he was trying to contain his anger.

He turned and went to his desk and pulled up a blank parchment. With his back to her, he began scribbling on the parchment. After a moment, he turned, holding both the quill and parchment in one hand. His cramped, slanted handwriting that had become so familiar over the years stood out on the page, the black ink having not yet dried.

_You are a simpering fool._

Rebecca smiled, unable to help herself. She looked up to him once more.

"You're welcome, Severus."

* * *

_Birthday Celebration, March 20, 1998_

Narcissa was helping Rebecca get ready, straightening and fussing with the dark green dress time and again.

"Really, it looks fine," Rebecca said.

And it did. In fact, it was probably one of the most beautiful articles of clothing she'd ever seen. The dark green color Narcissa had insisted on, as it made Rebecca's striking hair stand out even more, and complemented her eyes. The dress was a tight fit, which didn't appeal to her, but the way it accentuated her body made Rebecca feel… almost pretty. Even with her scars and Dark Mark showing. The dress had straps of a medium thickness that showed her tiny frame, but also the muscles that had been developing for the past three years during her training.

"You look stunning in any case, Rebecca dear," Narcissa said, standing back to look at her. "But a last touch…"

Rebecca's hand found the necklace that Severus had given to her this day last year. She wore it constantly, just as he told her to. But she hadn't needed it for protection, though she didn't mind wearing it at all. It was a comfort now, a reminder that she had someone still watching out for her just as she looked out for him.

Narcissa came back from the other side of the room with emerald earrings and matching bracelet.

"I know you won't take off that necklace, so I didn't bother bringing it over," Narcissa said quickly, slipping the bracelet over her wrist. "Nevertheless, these match perfectly. You're welcome to them, if you'd like- I hardly wear them as it is. Emerald isn't my stone, you see."

"Narcissa, I couldn't," Rebecca said, stopping herself from shaking her head, as the woman was putting the left earring into her ear. "You've already done so much for me."

"And we were, and still are, honored to do so for our family," Narcissa said, putting a hand on either of Rebecca's shoulders and giving her a smile. "For everything you've gone through, you deserve what little we can give you."

Rebecca tried to meet the older woman's gaze, but she knew how to play coy Slytherin well. Rebecca nodded.

"They're lovely, thank you," she said, putting a hand up to feel the dangling earrings. She smiled.

"Makeup… good. Dress, perfect. Accessories… You're ready," Narcissa said with a smile. "I'll have the necklace delivered at a later time. No need to worry about it now. We've got to get you to your dinner celebration."

They went down the stairs to find the men waiting for them. Tom was not around today, thankfully. Rebecca wasn't sure she could take much more of him. Her meetings with him were still weekly, and the past one had been disconcerting. Tom said that next month, she and Severus could begin trying to conceive.

"My plan is coming together," he'd told her. "And I would rather you be carrying Severus' child sooner rather than later."

When she had posed the issue to Severus, he had waved it off, looking completely unconcerned.

"We will simply tell him that the potions you've been taking have made it more difficult to conceive than we initially anticipated," he said. "The final battle draws near- I can almost taste it. Closer to the time, we will tell him that we were successful. We will not have to be concerned then, because he will not win."

"But, Severus-"

He'd rounded upon her, eyes intent. "Potter. Will. Win."

That had been all they'd said on the matter. So, in April, they would begin lying to Tom even more than they already were, and by the time May came around, they would be putting their lives at risk. But Rebecca knew that Severus' life was already in danger, more than he was willing to admit to her.

Tom had been unsuccessful in getting the information he wanted from Ollivander, or from any other wand maker, for that matter. And Rebecca had figured out why he was so obsessed with the answer to why he felt his wand was not fully powerful. He believed Severus killing Albus was inhibiting the Elder Wand's power. He wanted to be certain that his assumptions were correct before killing Severus, however. This was why he was giving permission for them to try for a child, because soon Severus would not be around to father any children.

But Rebecca had not brought it up to him yet. She suspected he knew, was just not telling her what he knew Tom planned. He wanted to die. And that made her heart wrench horribly, but also her Debt called to her to save him. She would find a way to save him, even at cost to herself.

Now, she brought herself out of her mind as she and Narcissa made their way down the Malfoys' grand staircase. When they reached the bottom, Narcissa drew Rebecca in front of her.

"Your birthday girl."

The men gave courteous applause.

Severus was unable to take his eyes off of her as she'd come down the stairs. The dress floated about her. Her hair, in soft ringlets, fell about her face gracefully. Legs were pale, smooth, and enticing. His lips thinned when he realized he was staring, and staring much too intently to simply be acting.

This was his student, the one he was protecting and risking his life for. His fellow Death Eater, fellow spy, and fellow Debt-holder. Only her Debt was not to someone who was dead… as of yet.

He could not help but recognize her beauty, especially with how Narcissa had dressed her and prepped her for her birthday night. This was going to be a difficult evening.

After Narcissa presented Rebecca to their small group, she announced it was time for dinner. Severus stepped forward and offered Rebecca his arm.

"You look… well this evening," he said.

She turned her brilliant smile upon him, and Severus felt a sense of pleasure bubbling up within him at evoking the look from her. But he schooled his features and led her behind the Malfoys to the dining room.

These thoughts were safe within his own mind, but he would not act upon them. It was in all ways inappropriate, and he did not desire to begin something, anything, like this with one of his students, no matter how much she acted like a peer rather than someone much younger than himself. No matter her kindness toward him. No matter how that kiss still came to him at night, even when they were under such stress.

He forced his mind blank, a mastery he attained during his practicing at Occlumency and Legilimency. His reaction to her was because of her close appearance to Lily, he told himself time and again. He had mistaken her for Lily once, in the summer before her fifth year, after he'd been Summoned by the Dark Lord and Albus had stupidly brought her into help treat him. Everyone else saw the resemblance, and when she'd first arrived at Hogwarts, it had been nearly more than he could take, seeing his old friend once more as an eleven-year-old.

But Rebecca Felan was no Lily, Severus knew. He pulled out Rebecca's chair and watched her sit down. She was not the woman who could hold his heart, even after all of these years.

He sat at the table beside her, no longer thinking on Lily or Rebecca's appearance. They had a dinner to get through, and then present-giving afterward. His own gift was stowed in his robes, shrunk to fit. And thinking on his gift to her made him…. Quickly, he stowed that emotion away.

Rebecca enjoyed herself during dinner, feeling more care-free than she normally would want to feel anywhere besides the Headmaster's office with Severus. And he was acting a little strangely tonight. She had nearly blushed at the way he looked at her as she was coming down the stairs.

But dinner was quickly coming to a close, and Narcissa was bringing out the desert that she knew Rebecca would want the most.

"Strawberry cheesecake," Narcissa said, smiling as the house elves made the cake appear on the table in the center.

Rebecca had eaten quite enough of the delicious courses for dinner, but her mouth nearly watered at the sight of the dessert in front of her.

"You'll have me bursting, Narcissa," Rebecca said as Narcissa flourished her wand to light the candles upon the cake.

"Be that as it may, before any of us are to overstuff ourselves, you must make a wish," she said with a smirk.

"Candles in a cheesecake, mother?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"After a little snake told me that you've never blown out candles on your birthday cake," Narcissa said, eyes darting from Severus and back to Rebecca, "I figured anything was better than nothing."

Rebecca turned to the man sitting beside her. "But I-"

She had never told him that. He sat there, watching her, wondering if she was going to ask the question and make him lie. Instead, she paused and remembered where they were. She smirked.

"I can't believe you remembered that."

He shrugged. "My memory is a wondrous thing."

"Clearly."

"Your candles, Becca dear," Narcissa said, smiling.

"Yes, and don't forget your wish lest our Cissa faint," Lucius said.

Narcissa sighed, but stayed where she was, watching. All eyes turned to her, and Rebecca thought of the wish she wanted to come true.

There was really no magic in this act. It was a simple cultural expectation, a tradition that many people had. But still, she couldn't help but stop and think about it for a moment.

_I want everyone to survive this war_.

She took in a breath and pushed it from her lungs once more, the flames atop the candles snuffing out almost simultaneously. The small watching crowd clapped again, and the cake began to cut itself as the candles popped out of the icing.

A large-ish piece fell to Rebecca's plate. She waited until everyone else was served before picking up her fork and taking the first bite. And it was heavenly.

With dessert being close to finished, Lucius finally stood and excused himself. When he re-entered the room, behind him was a very large, wrapped package floating behind him. He set it down near the entrance of the room, turning to see Rebecca eyeing him suspiciously.

"A gift from Draco, Narcissa, and I," Lucius said, stepping aside and motioning to the giant thing with his arm. "We are pleased to have a talented, powerful young woman such as yourself in our family, Rebecca. Let this be an expression of our gratitude, though it cannot even begin to describe how much we care for you."

Rebecca looked up to him as she stood slowly, assessing each of his words. Every single one was true. There was no sarcasm, no acting. The truth. She approached Lucius and the gift quickly, taking Lucius up into a brief hug.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She turned to the large gift, wrapped in what appeared to be magical green wrapping paper. She tore it off in pieces, and the picture slowly began to come together. Soon, a baby grand piano was before her. When she turned back to Lucius, Narcissa and Draco were standing beside him, watching her carefully for her reaction.

"It's… so beautiful," Rebecca said, looking back to the piano and running her hand across its smooth, unmarred surface.

"It's enchanted so that you may shrink it and take it with you," Draco said. "That was my idea. Mother and father got the best in Charms to do it."

"And it has an engraving on the keyboard cover," Narcissa said.

Rebecca leaned closer to see it. In silver lettering, the inscription read: _To_ _Rebecca Felan with Love from your Malfoy Family_.

She turned back to them, feeling the tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "Really. I'll play it all the time."

Narcissa was the first to hug her, and that allowed Rebecca to get a hold on her tears. She then hugged Draco and Lucius, who held her for a moment.

"Keep Severus close to you," he whispered. "He is in danger."

"I know," she answered just as quietly. "I won't let anything happen to him."

"That is good to hear."

He released her, and Rebecca finally saw how ragged he and Narcissa looked. Draco did not wear it in the same way his parents did, they who were always under the thumb of Tom. Lucius' normally clean face held a few more whiskers than normal, and his movements had been somewhat jerky, as if he was lacking sleep. Narcissa looked put-together as usual, but her eyes held dark circles under them. And her hair was just slightly out of place. Of course Lucius would be aware of Tom's plans. He had to sit with the Dark Lord many more days than Rebecca herself did.

Severus stood, clearing his throat for a moment. "Though it will be difficult to follow such a gift, I must humbly try," he said, stepping forward. He was soon within a few inches of Rebecca, his long legs carrying him easily over the room. He held up a wrapped box. "I fear it's not as grand as your first gift."

"I'm sure I'll love it the same," Rebecca said, slowly taking the box from him.

She unwrapped this gift much more quickly, intent upon what he might have thought to get her. When she was past the packaging, she opened the box and moved the tissue paper out of the way—someone had to have wrapped this for him—and paused at the cover of the book inside the box.

The book was thick, and old. The cover, at one point, had been either brown or a bronze color, though now it was difficult to tell if it was one or the other. The spine was perhaps gold, which matched the faded lettering.

_Advanced Potion-Making_ _by Libatius Borage._

Rebecca looked up at him briefly before she reached her hand into the box to tip open the book's cover. Inside the cover was his familiar script.

_This Book if the Property of the Half-Blood Prince_.

Rebecca grinned, letting the cover close. He stared at her intently, and she wished she could read his mind. Obviously, he'd gotten the book back somehow. Harry must not have taken it home with him after nearly killing Draco with it.

She lessened the distance between them, going up on her toes so she could give him a kiss on the cheek. A brave move, bold and daring, especially in front of the Malfoys.

"Thank you," she said, going back on her heels. "I love it."

"See that you keep it safe," Severus said, seeming normal even after the show of affection.

She nodded.

It wasn't much longer that the Malfoys were bidding them farewell. Severus offered to place the now tiny piano inside his robes on their journey back to the castle. The walk up was quiet, as they were Disillusioned once more. Finally, they arrived back inside his office, where he removed the spell and handed her the piano.

"There is no room for it here," he said. "So you must keep it small until you have your own space, whenever that may be."

"All right," she said, taking it from him.

He waited for a moment, looking her up and down. "Do you really like the book?"

"Of course." She held it close to her.

He gave a curt nod and was about to turn away when she spoke again. Severus looked to her.

"How did you know I'd never blown out birthday candles before?"

Severus paused. He could easily not answer her, make her wonder. But what would be the point of that? To get under her skin? He was certainly doing enough of that already.

"When I was attempting to teach Potter Occlumency," he said, "I saw many of his own memories. He remembered vividly you telling him that fact because it was something the two of you shared. And he felt closer to you because of that."

"But I told him that when we were first at Hogwarts, when we were eleven," Rebecca said.

"I do not want to make a guess at everything Potter remembers about you, Rebecca, but the two of you are close," Severus said. "I'm sure there are trifles that you recall about him as well."

She slowly nodded. "How did- but… Why did you remember?"

Severus did not answer immediately once more. To lie or not. To tell her the truth, or uphold their agreement of no more secrets?

"Because it is something the three of us have in common."

He turned from her, moving toward his desk.

"And do take that dress off," he said, his voice back to its usual tone. "You look ridiculous after Narcissa has gotten ahold of you."

Rebecca smirked, holding what used to be his book against her chest.

* * *

_Visiting Malfoy Manor, March 28, 1998_

Easter holidays. They were already here, just when it seemed they had just been on winter holiday. Rebecca had leave to return to Malfoy Manor once more to visit with everyone. Draco had been staying there until classes began once more on Monday.

The past few months had seen Rebecca growing closer to Tom. When she had wanted to enter the Inner Circle, she had wanted to bring it down with the chaos her entering would cause. Tom was a master at creating chaos on his own, but Rebecca's presence was tipping the scales. Bellatrix was even less stable than she had ever been before. Her favor hung by a thread. Greyback had been banished to the Snatchers and was no longer as close as he once was. He was no longer allowed to wear Death Eater robes or come to the meetings, and had very little contact with the Dark Lord at all.

The rest of the Death Eaters did not know what to think, it seemed. They were confused by their Lord's secretive ways, as he was away more often than not, always seeking something. Rebecca suspected her friends had already done away with a Horcrux and perhaps Tom felt it, but there was no way to be certain. Either that, or he was still searching for answers about his wand not working properly. Maybe even both. As much time as she spent with him, which was much more than anyone else in the Inner Circle now, she still had little clue as to that matter.

What she did know was that Severus was in danger, and Tom kept Nagini very close. The snake familiar was at every meeting Rebecca had with Tom. He did not allow anyone to touch Nagini, and only allowed Severus to have venom for making the potion to improve his strength. Though his body suited him well enough, Tom was someone who was never satisfied with anything less than perfection.

Nonetheless, she had plans. Plans for everything. And it was wearing on her.

Rebecca approached the manor. The gates recognized her and immediately allowed her entrance. When she entered the home itself, Rebecca sensed that there were others here besides the Malfoys. She took out her wand, running up the stairs to come upon the scene in the drawing room.

Draco knelt before someone who vaguely resembled Harry's shape, but it was difficult to tell from behind. Her eyes scanned the room. Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Scabior… and Greyback. Her eyes narrowed at him, and he grinned back at her, his teeth browned. She sneered, turning her attention back to the room. Ron and Hermione's widened, terrified eyes met her own calm gaze.

"Rebecca," Narcissa said. "Draco is trying to identify whether or not this… boy is Potter."

"Is he?" Rebecca asked, stepping further into the room, trying to see everyone at once. But she did not look at Ron and Hermione, not for another second. She could not spare them a glance, nor Dean or the goblin tied to her friends. Her mind raced as to how she was going to get everyone out of this situation unscathed. And she was going to need to use her position as Tom's newest and most beloved Death Eater in order to do so.

"Look upon him, girl, and the others in the room," Bellatrix snapped. "You knew them well. Tell us who they are."

"What did you see, cousin?" Rebecca asked Draco calmly, ignoring Bellatrix as she made her way to Draco and the kneeling figure.

"I- I don't know if it's them," Draco said quietly. Rebecca put a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"It's all right, I'll handle this," she said quietly, so only he could hear.

With a nod, Draco stood, returning to the fire, where his mother and father now stood. Rebecca turned her attention on the boy in front of her. His face was swollen, contorted, black hair long and unruly. Glasses sat upon his nose, but they were forced there. The scar upon his forehead was almost unrecognizable.

"He had his wand with 'im," Greyback said, stepping forward.

Rebecca stood and went to him, barely able to keep her body from trembling as she approached the werewolf. She took the wand from Greyback and turned back toward the boy who she knew to be Harry Potter kneeling on the ground. He had enough sense to keep quiet, and so did her other friends in the room. The wand was blackthorn, not his own.

"This isn't Harry Potter's wand," she said, tossing it back to Greyback carelessly. "Keep it for all I care. This isn't Harry Potter." She gestured to the boy vaguely.

Next, she turned her gaze upon the others. "I've never spoken more than a few words to the Gringotts goblins, so I couldn't tell you who this one is. The boy next to him is Terrence Higgs. He was in our House, Draco. He graduated a few years back." She held Dean's gaze for a moment. "We didn't know each other well, but I don't forget faces."

Dean nodded enthusiastically, keeping his mouth shut. Before Rebecca could say anything further, Draco piped up.

"Sorry I didn't recognize you before, Terrence," he said. "Must be the light."

Dean nodded curtly.

Rebecca looked, finally, to Ron and Hermione. Rebecca got very close to both of them, but said nothing. She poked Ron's forehead.

"This one is definitely a Weasley," she said. "But probably one of their cousins. Barney or someone is the closest name I can think of. There are so many of them."

Rebecca turned her gaze to Hermione.

"That one is the Mudblood Granger," Bellatrix hissed. "She matches the picture in the _Prophet_."

Rebecca turned suddenly to take Bellatrix in. The woman looked more ragged than she'd seen her in a while.

"I'm sorry, Bellatrix, I thought you wanted _me_ to identify them," Rebecca said coolly.

The other witch sneered. Rebecca smiled before turning back to Hermione. She gave her friend an even look, and Hermione's lower lip twitched for a moment.

"She's as dirty as her blood," Rebecca said, snapping her wrist so that her fingers grasped Hermione's chin to tug it up to look at her.

Ron lunged at her, actually making it look good, but with a flick of her wand, Rebecca set him to rights. He could not go very far bound as he was, but she wasn't taking chances.

Rebecca drew Hermione close to her, her face directly in that of her friend's. She stared at the girl for a while.

"Where is Potter?" Rebecca growled.

"I- I…"

"I'll take care of the Mudblood," Bellatrix said. "I have an affinity for getting them to speak."

Rebecca whirled around. "Don't you remember that our Lord has been teaching me his art?" she asked. "He prefers that I do the torturing now, Bellatrix. You've grown… less than stellar at it, he says."

"Our Lord would never say such a thing about me!"

"But you have not been around as of late," Rebecca continued. "Haven't you wondered why that is, Bella?" She took a step forward, but the woman held her ground.

"I've already defeated you once in a duel, don't think I won't hesitate to do it again if you test me," Rebecca said, drawing upon her memories of Severus growling at students to perfect her tone. "And who will our Lord believe when he does arrive?"

Bellatrix sneered, but said nothing.

"Exactly," Rebecca said.

"I will summon our Lord to settle this, then!" Bellatrix said, lifting up her sleeve.

"I will call him, Bellatrix," Lucius said, stepping forward and slapping the woman's hand away from her own arm. "They have been brought to _my_ house, and it is therefore upon my authority—"

"Your authority!" Bellatrix said. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture them—"

"Begging your pardon, _Mr_. Malfoy," interjected Greyback, "but it's us that caught them, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold if it's Potter—"

"Gold!" laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his—of—"

Rebecca wondered how long it would be before any of them spotted Gryffindor's sword, especially Bellatrix. She was bound to recognize it at some point. She stood before Ron and Hermione, between them and Harry.

"STOP!" shrieked Bellatrix. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

Lucius froze, his index finger hovering over his own Mark. Bellatrix strode to the corner where the other Snatchers stood.

"What is that?"

"Sword," one of the Snatchers grunted.

"Give it to me."

"It's not yourn, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it."

Bellatrix raised her wand and Stunned the man. He went down, but his comrades had their wands out before he was flat on his back. Rebecca stood back and watched, wand pointed at them.

"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?" Scabior asked.

"_Stupefy_!" Bellatrix screamed. "_Stupefy_!"

The four Snatchers went down with little effort. Greyback remained in a kneeling position, arms outstretched. One Stunning spell wasn't going to bring him down, but he wouldn't be bothering anyone for a few moments. Bellatrix snatched up the sword and leaned over to Greyback.

"Where did you get this sword?"

"How dare you?" he snarled, his mouth the only thing that could move. He bared his pointed teeth. "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword?" she repeated, brandishing it in his face. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent," rasped Greyback. "Release me, I say!"

She waved her wand, and the werewolf sprang to his feet, but appeared too wary to approach her. He prowled behind an armchair, his filthy curved nails clutching its back.

"Draco, move this scum outside," said Bellatrix, indicating the unconscious men. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

"Don't you dare talk to Draco like—" said Narcissa furiously, but Bellatrix screamed.

"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!"

She stood, panting slightly, looking down at the sword, examining its hilt. Then she turned to look at the silent prisoners.

"If it is indeed Potter—"

"Which I have already said it isn't," Rebecca said, sounding bored.

"You could be mistaken," Bellatrix snapped. "His face is swollen. He looks nothing like he might without the curse upon him."

Rebecca shrugged. "If you wish to summon our Lord when I've told you this isn't Potter, go ahead."

"The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"

"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my—"

"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!" shrieked Bellatrix. She looked frightening, mad; a thin stream of fire issued from her wand and burned a hole in the carpet.

Narcissa hesitated for a moment, then addressed the werewolf.

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except… except for the Mudblood."

Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.

"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed around the room.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she said. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them—yet."

She threw Greyback's wand back to him, then took a short silver knife from under her robes. She cut Hermione free from the other prisoners, then dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room, while Greyback forced the rest of them to shuffle across to another door. Rebecca stepped forward, giving Bellatrix an even look.

"Do I have to take another knife from you, Bella?" she asked. "Is this one poisoned too? Haven't you learned that it isn't an effective tactic when questioning prisoners?"

Bellatrix pointed her wand at Rebecca. "I've had enough of your sass! You may think you're a part of this family, but you are no Black! Your blood is as bad as hers," she shouted, motioning to Hermione, who laid on the floor trying to look as small as possible.

"Then why do I have the Mark?" Rebecca asked, stepping forward, shoving her own sleeve up to expose it. "Why am I closer to the Dark Lord than you are? Why has he chosen _me_ to bear his next generation of followers, and not you, Bella?" Rebecca paused. "Why not you?"

Bellatrix's arm shook, but she did not lower her wand. The silver knife hung limply at her side.

"You know that you've fallen from his favor," Rebecca said. "Curse me, and he will be done with you, even if you do give him Granger. But you don't have Potter. Summoning our Lord here without Potter when you tell him you have him would not earn you any favors."

"Shut up!"

"No." Rebecca pointed her wand at the witch. Bellatrix did not flinch. "Back off, Bella. I will question the Mudblood. I will know if she's lying."

"Bella, she knew the girl for years," Narcissa said from behind them. "Don't tear apart this family."

"This is no family!" Bellatrix shrieked. "Our father is turning in his grave, knowing someone of her blood defiles our house's name!"

"Bella, Rebecca has all of the same rights as a Black, our Lord proclaimed it," Narcissa continued, stepping forward and pulling Bellatrix gently aside. "Let her do what he has taught her. It would be his wish."

"I'll just be borrowing this," Rebecca said, plucking the knife from Bellatrix's hands. "Don't worry, I'll give this one back." She smiled before turning to Hermione as Narcissa pulled a sputtering Bellatrix away.

Rebecca leaned over, taking a fistful of Hermione's hair and pulling up as quickly as possible, though her grip was not forcible. Her lips were next to her friend's ear.

"You need to scream as loud as you can," she whispered. "Our lives depend on it."

Hermione met her eyes as Rebecca quickly muttered a charm under her breath. Hermione's skin would be protected for a period of time from pain. She'd found the spell in one of the old books in the Headmaster's office.

"Where did you get the sword?" Rebecca asked, pulling harder on Hermione's hair.

"We found it!" Hermione cried, hands grasping at Rebecca's, her eyes shut.

Rebecca leaned forward and swept the knife over her shoulder in a straight line. Hermione screamed, making her pain believable as she tried to get out of Rebecca's tight grasp.

"I don't believe you!" Rebecca shouted. "The sword. Where did you get it?"

"We found it—we found it— PLEASE!"

Another slash across her shoulder, this one perpendicular to the first, meeting it shakily to form an "L." Hermione screamed again, louder than the first time.

"You are a liar! Filthy Mudblood and a liar! You've been inside Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts. That's why the goblin is with you. Tell the truth. _The truth_."

"No, we haven't seen the goblin until tonight," Hermione begged, looking up at Rebecca. "Rebecca, please! You know me!"

Rebecca grasped the knife tighter and brought it down on her shoulder again, drawing another line beside the "L." Hermione cried out, her voice growing shrill.

"What else did you take from my aunt's vault?" Rebecca asked, shaking Hermione by her hair. "What else, I said?"

Hermione said nothing, whimpering and letting tears fall down her face.

"Answer me!" Rebecca said, drawing the girl up from the floor to meet her gaze. Hermione shook her head as best she could, bawling her eyes out.

Rebecca set her back on the ground roughly, setting the knife to her skin and carving an "A" beside the "I." Hermione shrieked in pain, trying to pull away, but Rebecca held her still.

"How did you get into her vault?" Rebecca asked once she was done carving the "A." "Did the goblin help you?"

"We only met him tonight, I swear!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside her vault… It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy!" screeched Bellatrix. "A likely story!"

"But you know what the sword is," Rebecca said. "How do you know about it? Tell me the truth. You know I will know you're lying, Mudblood."

Hermione choked upon her sob, the blood running down her shoulder and arm. "Harry's pulled the sword of Gryffindor from the hat before," she said quietly, her voice thick with her tears. "That's how I know it's not the real one. I've seen it before. You've seen it before. You know."

Rebecca looked back to Bellatrix. "She isn't lying this time. Perhaps all Mudbloods aren't so useless after all. She raises an interesting point."

"That is the sword!" Bellatrix growled.

"We can find out easily!" Lucius said. "Draco, fetch the goblin. He can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

Rebecca looked to Draco and nodded. Her Slytherin friend made his way across the room and disappeared into the doorway Greyback had taken Harry and the others.

Rebecca turned her attention back to Hermione.

"Now that I've gotten you on the path to the truth, maybe you'll continue," she said. "Where is Harry Potter? Why aren't you with him or Ron Weasley?"

"They left!" she said, fingers clawing at Rebecca's hand in her hair. Rebecca shook her, and Hermione hands dropped as she yelled in pain. "They left me! They didn't want to be around me anymore. I was a burden to them, they said."

"Why?"

Hermione turned her face up to Rebecca, a look of loathing passing over her features. "Because they wanted to go back to the castle and try to rescue you. I said you were a lost cause. They didn't want to believe me. So they left."

Behind her, Bellatrix cackled. Rebecca didn't pay her any mind, smiling instead down at Hermione.

"As you can see, I'm not the one who needs rescuing," Rebecca said evenly.

Draco came back up the stairs with Griphook the goblin and dragged the nearly unconscious creature across the room toward Bellatrix and the sword.

"Not from my position," Hermione said, eyes defiant.

"Just for that, you get the last letter," Rebecca said, kneeling and carving the "R" into her skin slowly.

Hermione screamed again, holding it for the entirety of the knife touching her skin. Rebecca hoped her charm was holding up.

"Enough," Bellatrix said. Rebecca turned, letting Hermione face the door still so she would not have to face any of the people before her.

Soon, the Malfoys and Bellatrix were consumed with trying to get Griphook to identify the sword. Rebecca leaned over.

"Do you have dittany in your bag?" she whispered, lips barely moving.

"Yes. I still have it and my bag."

"Apply it as soon as you're out of here."

"You have a plan?"

"Not as of yet. I'm winging it."

"Comforting."

They had no more time to speak.

"Well?" Bellatrix said to Griphook. "Is it the true sword?"

Rebecca held her breath, staring at the goblin as he held the sword in his hands.

"No," Griphook said. "It's a fake."

"Are you sure?" asked Bellatrix. "Quite sure?"

"Yes," said the goblin.

Rebecca felt relief, and clearly Bellatrix did too.

"Good," she said, and with a casual flick of her wand she slashed another deep cut into the goblin's face, and he dropped with a yell at her feet, still clutching the sword. She kicked him aside. "And now," she said in a voice that burst with triumph, "we call the Dark Lord!"

She pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark.

Rebecca frowned. Bellatrix then turned to look upon her and the bleeding Hermione still clutched by her hair.

"And I think," said Bellatrix, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ron burst into the room, and Rebecca ducked, falling on top of Hermione.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he roared.

There was a flash of light above her. Rebecca looked up to see Bellatrix crawling toward her. She grabbed Hermione's hand and tugged upon her. Rebecca stood with her, helping to hold up her friend. Lucius was on the floor, Stunned. The others were in a duel, three on two. Harry was rolling behind a sofa as Bellatrix wrenched her knife out of Rebecca's grasp.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Bellatrix cried.

Rebecca stood to her side, looking on as Bellatrix held Hermione against her, knife at her throat. Harry peered out from behind the sofa.

"Drop your wands," Bellatrix whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her bloody is!"

Ron stood rigid, clutching the wand he'd taken from someone, most likely Wormtail. Harry straightened, still holding Bellatrix's wand.

Rebecca raised her wand to Hermione's head. "She said. Drop. The wands."

"All right!" Harry shouted, and he dropped Bellatrix's wand at his feet. Ron did the same with the wand he held. Both raised their hands to shoulder height.

"Good!" Bellatrix leered. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"

"While I'm sure that would be frightening to Harry Potter," Rebecca said, "as I've told you, it's not him. You best hope our Lord isn't displeased when he arrives."

She was stalling, trying to draw at time and try and think of a plan to get her friends out and keep herself alive. But she was drawing a blank.

"Enough out of you," Bellatrix said, shoving Rebecca out of the way. "Be useful and get them bound."

Rebecca made her way to Ron and Harry, wand pointed at them.

Draco had Bellatrix and Wormtail's wands and was bringing them toward their side of the room.

"Now," said Bellatrix softly. "Cissy, I think once these heroes are taken care of, Greyback can have his fill of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

Rebecca's eyes widened, knowing what Greyback would do to Hermione.

"Dobby, you're the only one I can think of," she whispered. "Dobby, we need you right now."

The situation seemed hopeless, her wand pointed at two of her best friends while a third one was being handed off to the same werewolf that had been terrorizing her for years.

There was a grinding noise that suddenly overtook the room. Rebecca looked up in time to see the chandelier tremble, then creak with an ominous jingling. It began to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it; dropping Hermione, she threw herself aside with a scream. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions: Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.

Rebecca turned to face the two boys, who were already moving forward. She pursued Ron, who was pulling Hermione out from wreckage. She pointed her wand at him. From behind her, she heard Harry yell, "_Stupefy_!"

It hit her in the back, bringing her down. She gave Ron a look, and he kept pulling at Hermione. Rebecca watched as Greyback was lifted off his feet from the force of the next Stunner Harry cast. Narcissa was dragging Draco out of the way, she noticed from the corner of her eye. Then, Narcissa's wand and eyes were drawn to the doorway.

"Dobby!" she screamed, and even Bellatrix froze. "You! _You_ dropped the chandelier—?"

The tiny elf trotted into the room, his shaking finger pointing at his old mistress.

"You must not hurt Harry Potter," he squeaked.

"Kill him, Cissy!" shrieked Bellatrix, but there was another _crack_, and Narcissa's wand too flew into the air and landed on the other side of the room.

"You dirty little monkey!" bawled Bellatrix. "How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no masters!" squealed the elf. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

"Ron, catch—and GO!" Harry yelled, throwing one of the wands to him. He rushed past Rebecca to tug Griphook out from under the chandelier. He gave her a worried glance, but she moved her eyes toward the others and looked back to him quickly, the only thing she could do at the moment. Harry hoisted Griphook up onto one shoulder, the sword still hanging from the goblin's grasp. Harry seized Dobby's hand and spun on the spot to Disapparate.

Bellatrix screamed and took aim, throwing her knife at the place they were disappearing. The only thing Rebecca could see was the knife disappearing along with the people, and a rush of dread filled her. Would the knife hit? How would it be affected by the Disapparation?

But there was no time to think about that. She set her mind to work, placing the images and sounds she wanted protected from Tom for when he arrived. Soon after her friends had Apparated to safety, the Dark Lord entered the room, robes sweeping as he flourished his wand. But when he looked about, he saw Greyback lying on the ground, Rebecca splayed face-first near the broken chandelier, and Narcissa and Draco tending to Lucius while Bellatrix cried out in agony.

"My Lord," Rebecca said weakly, still unable to move from the Stunning spell.

Tom waved his wand, and she was able to stand shakily, clutching her wand still.

"What happened here?" he asked, drawing close to her, then taking her arm and pulling her close, so that their eyes could meet.

He saw the scene play out as she wanted him to, did not see her recognizing each of the prisoners.

"I told Bellatrix not to summon you, my Lord," Rebecca said, breathless. "It was the Granger Mudblood, but it was not Potter or Weasley, I swear to it."

"You tell it truthfully, Rebecca," Tom muttered, pushing her away from him so he could turn to Bellatrix.

"Bella!" he called. The witch finally stopped her screaming and bowed low.

"My Lord!" she said. "Potter, he—"

"That was _not_ Potter," Tom said, taking another step forward. "I told you only to Summon me only for _Potter_."

"But the Mudblood, it was her. And the Weasley that was with them—"

"Are not. Potter." His bony finger pointed to Rebecca, who stood, appearing dazed. "Rebecca saw Potter and his friends on a daily basis. She _knew_ them. If she said they were not who you and Greyback claimed them to be, then why did you Summon me?"

"My Lord, I—"

"Silence!"

His voice reverberated off the walls of the drawing room.

"I have grown weary of you, Bella," Voldemort said with a tired voice. "Weary, indeed. You have disobeyed me for the last time."

Bellatrix fell to her knees, crawling toward him. "My Lord, please. I have been a faithful follower to you for many years. Please…"

"That is why I am _not_ going to kill you, Bella," Voldemort said. "But should you displease me just once more, even for the slightly infraction, I will not be so merciful."

"My Lord, thank you…"

"_Crucio_!" Voldemort called, raising his wand as the witch was about to touch his feet.

Rebecca fell to her knees, feeling weaker than she imagined from the Stunning spell. And the magnitude of what she had done was finally hitting her. How great the danger was. How much she could have lost had she not held so much confidence. A hand was upon her shoulder, and Rebecca turned her head, the world swimming.

"I'll get you back to Hogwarts once we're dismissed," Draco said. "But I'll need to borrow your wand. Whoever they were took it, Greyback's, and Aunt Bellatrix's."

Rebecca nodded vaguely. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Draco said. "I was growing out of the wand anyway. At least we have Ollivander."

"Something tells me not," Rebecca said. "Or Lovegood." She closed her eyes in an attempt to make the world stop spinning. "If they took the goblin with them, they got the other prisoners out, too."

"Bloody hell," Draco said.

Their voices were quiet, to not draw Voldemort's attention as he continued to torture Bellatrix. Finally, he rounded upon Greyback.

"Insolent wolf!" Voldemort cried. "_Crucio_!"

Greyback shuddered and hit the ground, having a fit as the curse hit him. The scream that came from his mouth was more than Rebecca could take. She pitched forward.

"My Lord!" Draco called, reaching forward to grab Rebecca's shoulders. "I must get my cousin back to the castle—she's unwell."

Voldemort rounded upon Draco, fury in his eyes. He raised his wand.

"Do not interrupt me!"

"My Lord," Rebecca said, managing to look up at him. She needed an explanation, needed one now. "My Lord, my apologies. I know you told me to wait, that I was not to… But, my Lord, I'm pregnant. That is why I'm unwell."

The attention dropped from Draco as quickly as Tom's wand did. His eyes were alight with something entirely different, even in the midst of the groaning from Bellatrix and Greyback in the background.

"Then she needs rest, Draco," Voldemort said, his voice suddenly gentled. "Get her to Severus. He will treat her for whatever wounds she's sustained."

"Thank you, my Lord," Draco said, bowing his head. He picked up Rebecca's wand and began helping her from the manor.

Once they were downstairs, out of hearing range of everyone else, Draco glanced at her. "Are you really pregnant?"

"You said we shouldn't talk in your house," Rebecca said.

Draco nodded, then lifted her wand and Disapparated to outside the gates of Hogwarts. When they appeared again, he had to hold Rebecca tightly to keep her standing. After a minute, Rebecca opened her eyes and saw Draco watching her cautiously.

"And it's none of your business," Rebecca said. "Now help me up to the castle."

"I just thought… the way you and Severus are together—"

"Drop it. I feel too awful for this conversation."

Draco kept quiet until they were in the gates and nearly up to the Entrance Hall. "I know what actually happened in there."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Neither do I."

Rebecca glanced at Draco and shook her head. "Enough Slytherin mind games, just get me to the Headmaster's office. I'm sure your parents will send your things along later tonight, along with a new wand."

They made it up to the Headmaster's office, where Draco helped Rebecca into the room. Upon seeing her, Severus stood and rushed to the two.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Long story short: she was Stunned," Draco said, handing her off to Severus, who took her to the nearest chair and set her down.

"That will be all, Draco," Severus said, turning to his godson and giving him his best glare.

"Thank you, Draco," Rebecca said.

"Welcome, Becca," he replied, backing away from Severus. He then turned on his heel and left the room, presumably for their shared dorm.

Severus turned to her once he heard the door lock automatically behind Draco. "Show me."

Rebecca let her guards down, opening up to him.

Severus was overwhelmed with her emotions, with her pain, and with the images she was showing him. It was almost too much. But after a few minutes, he understood what happened.

"Shit," he hissed. "Rebecca, what you've done is very dangerous. It can't be taken back."

"I had to say something or he was going to curse Draco for trying to help me," Rebecca said. "I didn't know what else to do, Severus."

He held up a hand. "We will talk about this momentarily. Let me get you a potion to help with your issues from the Stunning spell."

Rebecca closed her mouth and watched him as he crossed the room. She made her way to the chair near the fireplace and sat heavily in it. Though Tom had done some magic to remove the Stunning spell from her, its effects were a little more difficult to shake for such a relatively simple spell.

Severus came back into her line of sight soon enough, holding a vial of what she assumed was a painkiller of some kind. Perhaps a relaxant. Anything at this point would be fine—she didn't really care. She took it from him, her arm feeling heavy, and didn't pause to find out what he'd given her.

He looked on as Rebecca gulped the potion down. She looked about as tired as he felt at the moment. She rested her head on the chair for a moment, eyes closed, before opening them again. Her green eyes found his immediately, and she suddenly seemed to have clarity of mind.

"You know Tom is going to kill you."

Her words hung between them. Severus didn't dare to speak. She looked fragile enough already for him to say anything.

"You know."

She sighed and shifted in the seat, taking off her cloak and letting it fall to the floor. The relaxation potion he'd given her would help with her nerves, with the Stunning spell. But it wouldn't stop her brain. Rebecca looked up at him once more, and Severus kept his face passive and his lips shut.

"You don't want to fight him anymore."

She leaned against the back of the chair once more, her green eyes peering upon him as if able to read his thoughts.

"Is it because of Lily?"

Despite himself, a jolt went up his spine. She knew. Somehow, she knew. Severus had always understood that she was far cleverer than the average student, but there was no way she could have inferred all of this.

"No one told me," she said, pulling her legs up onto the chair. Her heels rested on the edge of the chair, her elbow on one of the arms. Her fist propped up her chin, allowing her to look at him. "I've observed, remembered things no one cares to. Just like you taught me."

She's become a tool against my defenses, Severus found himself thinking. And he had trained her to do just that: get around all defenses. He remained standing, intrigued that she was still speaking and that he had not snapped at her already.

"When you called me Lily that night during the summer, after you'd been Summoned," she began, eyes not leaving his, "that's when I began to wonder… about everything. Then what Harry told me of your memory. Then how you're so protective of Harry. Yes, you made a promise to Dumbledore, but it was more than that. And your Patronus is a doe. James Potter's was a stag, just like Harry's. I made an assumption as to what Lily's was."

Severus closed his eyes for a moment. His most closely guarded secret, so easily deduced by someone half his age… but perhaps with the same level of intellect. Still he complimented her, even when she deserved to be verbally torn apart. But he found that no matter how much he wanted to, he could not speak. He opened his eyes and let them glare at her, but onward she ploughed.

"I won't tell anyone. I suspect you won't want it."

Her gaze flicked up and down, taking in his posture. Hands crossed before him, fists clenched. Brow crinkled. Eyes sharp, glaring. Nostrils flared. Cheeks slightly flushed.

"But that does leave me a bit miffed," she said, letting her hand fall away from her chin. Her head stayed up of its own accord. The relaxation potion was strong, but her will was greater. "Why me?"

There he stood, unmoving. His lips thinned.

"Is it because I look like Lily?" she asked. "Is it because you know the truth? That I'm her second-cousin. Am I another part of settling your Life Debt?"

His fists shook. But nothing more.

"No. Your Life Debt was to James Potter. But you feel you owe Lily, too. That's why you watch after Harry. Because of her. Not his father."

When had she become able to read him like a bloody book? What had he created?

"Enough," he said, his voice low and barely audible. "You overstep your bounds."

"I overstep no bounds, Severus," Rebecca said, moving her head so that it turned to the side. She looked at him out of her left eye now, and nothing more. "You placed us on equal level. No secrets."

"Then you simply do not understand when it is best to keep your infernal mouth _shut_."

Rebecca smirked. "You know I can't let you die, Severus," she said evenly, her voice just above a whisper. "I too owe a Life Debt, and I won't be paying it as you've been paying yours."

She didn't even move when he was suddenly stooping over her on the chair, a hand gripping either arm. Rebecca looked at him out of her left eye, noting that his aggression had grown. His eyes were nearly glowing with his anger. But her tiredness coupled with the work of the potion didn't let the panicking signals reach her limbs, to force her to move. So instead of being intimidating, Severus merely received a chuckle in return for his efforts.

He took her chin in his hand and pulled her face about, forcing her to look at him fully. "I will not allow you to save me. This is one thing that you cannot muddle in, girl: my future. It is my decision."

"Death by Tom Marvolo Riddle," Rebecca said quietly, raising an eyebrow languidly. "Somehow that seems a cop-out for someone like you. You're a survivor."

"No longer."

The words shook as he said them. Then he pushed her back against the chair. He turned and went to his desk, sitting down in the large, comfortable chair behind it.

"You're too weak to go to your own dormitory," he said evenly, mask upon his face once more. "You may sleep in my quarters tonight. I will not have use for them."

"Thanks, but I'll stay here for now, by the fire," Rebecca said, snuggling farther into the chair.

She couldn't see him from her chair, as she faced the fire. She watched it crackle for a few minutes before feeling her eyes close. She didn't attempt to open them again. Her body and mind were tired, and she didn't want to fight with him anymore. Unbeknownst to Severus, she'd already begun her plan to save his life long ago, when Tom first had her torture Ollivander. But he didn't need to know that, or her true motives for wanting to save him, just yet. He would find out soon enough.

Rebecca dozed in the chair, unaware of Severus watching her from his awkward angle at his desk. All his could really see was some of her facial profile and her legs and feet. It didn't look a comfortable position to try to sleep in, but he'd gone to sleep in worse places.

Severus did not know how long the room remained quiet nor how long he stared at her profile, trying to figure out… something. What this was between them. What there couldn't be between them. How much she deserved better than the life Albus had offered to her that day, how he should have stood up for her as his student…

And then a burst of flames appeared above his desk. Severus shielded his face with his arms, but nothing further happened. There wasn't even an accompanying sound, just flames. But that was impossible…

Slowly, he lowered his arms, and there, upon his desk, stood Fawkes. The phoenix stared up at him, intelligent eyes looking him over. But clearly, Severus was not the one he was looking for.

The phoenix turned around and flapped his great wings a few times, landing on the back of Rebecca's chair lightly. The girl did not stir, not until Fakes landed in her lap. Her eyes shot open, and she was on guard. But her face relaxed for the first time this year, as far as he could tell. Then she smiled, the brilliant expression lighting up her face.

"Fawkes," she said, hand reaching forward tentatively. Was he even real?

The phoenix allowed her to pet his head gently. Then he stuck out one leg, where a parchment was tied to him hastily.

Rebecca's brows furrowed, and quickly she untied the parchment. When she was done, Fawkes perched on the back of her chair, looking over her shoulder as she read.

_Becca_,

_Friends are safe, as are G, L, and O. D did not make it. Knife in Disapparation. H torn up, but fine. Send back word of your safety before friends go crazy and do something stupid._

_Bill_

Rebecca's fingers lost their grasp and the parchment fell to the floor. The same hand covered her face. She heard the rustling of robes, but she couldn't bring herself to look up.

Severus bent over and took up the parchment scrap. Cryptic, but understandable. And with Fawkes as the delivery method, there was no way it could have been intercepted anyway. Severus looked to Rebecca, who was not taking the news easily.

"I called him to us," she said. "Maybe Harry did. It doesn't matter," she added quickly. "Bellatrix killed two people I thought of as friends."

Severus opened his mouth, about to say that Dobby was not a person. But that was how Rebecca viewed him. The girl was so soft to be a Slytherin, but she was not raised as many of them had been. She valued friendship, bravery, loyalty over most things. But she was cunning, intelligent, and her loyalty made her a better Slytherin than most. Her ability to love, to care, made her greater. And that was exactly why she'd been chosen as his secondary spy.

Her hand fell away from her face. "Could you get me a quill and parchment, please?"

Without a word, Severus waved his wand and caught the objects he'd Summoned to him. He handed them to her. She leaned over the arm of the chair and scribbled on the parchment.

"Bill," she said when she was done. "I'm fine. Tell friends not to worry and H to calm down. D will be avenged, as will S. It's not his fault or anyone's. D made a choice." Her voice shook as she read it, and Severus was quite certain she was going to break down into tears. "This will be over soon. Tell H I'm sorry. Will send extra salve along with F for wounds. Burn this when you're done reading, as I'll do with yours. Love, Becca."

Fawkes hopped down from the back of the chair and put his beak to the parchment on the ground. It turned to ask within a second. The phoenix looked up to Rebecca, waiting. Rebecca, eyes brimming with tears being held back, glanced at Severus.

"I brewed some salve for wounds in Slughorn's," she said. "I put it in your—"

"I noticed," Severus said, making his way across the room to his personal cabinet. He returned and handed it to her.

Rebecca wrapped the parchment around the vial and handed it to Fawkes. "Please take this back to Bill."

Fawkes reached up with talons extended, plucked the items from her grasp, and disappeared in another burst of flames. Rebecca blinked after he'd gone before curling her legs up under her. She didn't look up at him, but she began speaking.

"Choosing death is so simple for you, isn't it?" she asked quietly. "But I think you underestimate the disservice you'd be doing to yourself if you chose to go so willingly."

"My life is not worth so much," Severus said, his voice deep. "I am, after all, the man who killed Albus Dumbledore."

"And I killed Charity Burbage," Rebecca said, finally looking up at him. "And by the end of this, I suspect I'll be forced to kill again. I've tortured friends, people who have done me no harm, and have undergone torture in return. You've done all of this and more. But we're both still decent people. Two Slytherins being manipulated to suit the needs of the wizarding world."

"My situation is much more complicated than you believe it to be."

Rebecca watched him, taking in how he neutrally stared back at her, all traces of his earlier anger gone. He looked relaxed, almost. After a long pause, she spoke again.

"I don't think you understand how much I would be unable to forgive myself if you died," she said. "And not because Albus ordered me to keep you alive. I could care less what he thinks anymore. I'm doing this for me now. For you. For Harry. For the safety of the wizarding world. Not for Albus."

His eyes widened just slightly, but he remained still otherwise.

"Like it or not, I would hate myself if you died and I didn't try to save you," she continued. "Everyone deserves second chances, Severus, even if you don't think you do."

He rolled his eyes. "There is nothing you can do to save me, chit. Once the Dark Lord decides on a man's death, he is done for."

He swept from the room, leaving Rebecca alone. She let her head flop back against the back of the chair once more.

* * *

_The Final Battle, May 1-2, 1998_

The month of April was difficult for everyone. Rebecca could feel her nerves fraying, her confidence slowly giving way to all of her fears. She knew it was drawing nearer to the time when Harry would need to fight Tom, and the latter would attempt to kill Severus. What was more, the next month would see her N.E.W.T.s, and Rebecca had absolutely no clue where she was going to be when they were going to be taking place.

She couldn't even look at Dumbledore's portrait. Seeing him just made her anger grow tenfold, and she had the strong desire to hex his portrait until it was no more. But she kept ahold of herself, just barely. Severus' strength fed her own. Even if it was simply an act, Rebecca couldn't help but appreciate his stalwart state, even if he didn't seem to appreciate her being around him anymore.

There were moments when she thought she could feel his gaze upon her, but when she would look up he would be engrossed in his book or paperwork on his desk that never shrank in size. Other times, he would say something almost kind to her, but would then he would turn cold once more. Now more than ever she didn't need this sort of thing weighting on her mind, but there was little she could do about it. Draco wasn't much help, seeing as he was as stressed as she was. And her communication with Harry and the others had stopped after that night at Malfoy Manor. Fawkes had not shown up again, and Rebecca felt a hole in her heart. The phoenix had been greatly welcome when he'd shown up, and she had rather hope he'd stay and help somehow. But it would have been dangerous for him. Fawkes was an extremely intelligent creature: he wouldn't put himself in danger for anyone beside Dumbledore.

It was late on the night of the first of May. Rebecca had not returned to her dormitory at Severus' bidding. He had a feeling that tonight was going to be something more than any other night's usual quietness. Rebecca obeyed, staying curling up in her chair near the fireplace with her book in her hands. Tom had ordered Severus to take extra care of Rebecca since she'd told him of her "pregnancy." Convincing him had not taken much, and there wouldn't be cause for worry for later, Severus told her.

"You are supposedly not far enough along to be showing," he said, "and there are no true means of magic to show whether or not there _is_ life at this stage in any case. And if all else should fail, which I suspect it shouldn't, you can simply tell him you miscarried from the stress of the Final Battle, whenever that may occur. Though I suspect it will be soon."

And she believed him. She trusted his word over all others, especially now. Rebecca knew that she had come to rely on him, a terrifying prospect considering that all he truly seemed to want was death. But she had many plans to keep him alive, though she suspected she knew how Tom was going to attempt to kill Severus. Her plans, nevertheless, were intact. All she had to do was wait, her supplies discretely tucked into her robes.

About eleven at night was when Severus hissed, looking down at his Mark. Communication using the Dark Mark was a bit difficult, but it was an extremely quick method of getting in touch, especially since Death Eaters couldn't produce Patronuses. Severus was very quiet for a moment, then looked up.

"Alecto calls me to the Ravenclaw common room," he said, standing and approaching her. "You're coming with me. I will not have you leaving my side tonight."

Rebecca nodded, putting her book down and standing as well, fastening her cloak over her Hogwarts uniform.

"What's the matter?"

His face was unreadable. Then, a hint of irritation flashed when he raised his lip in an almost-sneer.

"Potter is in the castle."

He clutched her upper arm and led her toward the entrance of the Headmaster's office, pushing her out first and shutting and warding the door behind him. He paused for a moment before taking in a breath and walking down the stairs. Rebecca followed him quickly, just a step behind him.

"You think it's tonight, don't you?"

"Be quiet."

Rebecca bit her lower lip to keep herself from speaking anymore. He was nervous, but only slightly so. And in a moment, it could disappear completely, leaving him neutral once more. So she remained by his side, quiet, the whole fast-paced walk up to the Ravenclaw Tower. They were two floors below it when Severus paused, pulling her with him behind a suit of armor. Rebecca heard the footsteps—two sets. His eyes flicked to her, and Rebecca took out her wand at the same moment he did. Once more, he took her upper arm in his hand and pulled her against his side, staring down at her for a moment. She nodded. Stay close to him, like she didn't know.

"Who's there?"

McGonagall's voice. Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment, mentally preparing herself before she and Severus stepped out, almost at the same time, revealing themselves.

"It is I."

McGonagall had her wand pointed, ready for a duel. Severus and Rebecca's wands were held at the ready, though she wasn't quite certain she was as prepared as she might look for a duel with one of her professors. There was a large space around McGonagall, and Rebecca knew Harry was close. There had been two sets of footsteps. Stupid boy, not covering up the sound he would make.

"Where are the Carrows?" Severus asked quietly.

"Wherever I told them to be, I expect, Severus," said Professor McGonagall.

Severus took a step closer, and Rebecca did as well, staying pressed up against his side. He was stalling, trying to see if Harry was there and if he would come out. Probably so he could find a way for Rebecca to get him to safety. Rebecca looked about the corridor, but it would be impossible to see her friend if he was under his cloak.

"I was under the impression," said Severus, "that Alecto had apprehended an intruder."

"Really?" said Professor McGonagall. "And what gave you that impression?"

Severus flexed his left arm slightly, where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin. Unconsciously, Rebecca put her free hand onto his arm and stared at McGonagall.

"Oh, but naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication, I forgot."

Severus didn't reply to her comment, instead looking about the corridor. Rebecca watched McGonagall, unsure of how tense the situation could get or how quickly a duel could arise.

"I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva," Severus said.

"You have some objection?"

"I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?"

"I thought I heard a disturbance," said Professor McGonagall.

"Really? But all seems calm."

There was a pause. Rebecca could feel his arm tense under her grip, but she remained where she was.

"Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist—"

Rebecca saw McGonagall twitch at Harry's name, and Rebecca raised her own wand just as her Transfiguration professor did so. She and Severus cast their individual Shield Charms, though she had thrown hers up before him. However, one appeared before her as well.

McGonagall was thrown off-balance at the power of their charms and her own spell bouncing off of them. She brandished her wand at a torch on the wall and it flew off its bracket. Rebecca heard movement, but could see nothing. She was about to cast Aguamenti when the fire-lasso that now flew at Severus suddenly turned into a great black serpent. McGonagall blasted it into smoke, which then re-formed and solidified in seconds to become a swarm of pursuing daggers. Severus grasped Rebecca around the waist and flicked his wand, forcing the suit of armor they'd hidden behind to step before them and intercept the daggers.

"Minerva!" said a squeaky voice. Rebecca saw, through the small slot between the suit of armor and its arm, Professors Flitwick and Sprout sprinting up the corridor toward them in their nightclothes, with enormous Professor Slughorn panting along at the rear.

"No!" squealed Flitwick, raising his wand. "You'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

Flitwick's spell hit the armor before them. Rebecca tugged on Severus' arm just as the suit of armor was coming to life. She sent a Stunner at the suit of armor, which stopped its arms long enough that they could escape.

"Run," Severus said into her ear.

He clutched her hand, and she kept up with him as his long legs pounded against the stone floor of the castle. Her heart pumped, hair flying behind her as the corridor flew by them. Three sets of footsteps followed them, but Rebecca didn't have time to turn around to see who it was.

At the end of the corridor was a classroom. Severus blasted open the door and hurtled through the opening.

"Trust me," he said, suddenly stopping just before the window and snatching her up, forcing her against him. "Hang on."

Without thinking, Rebecca wrapped her arms around his waist just as they reached the window. He dove from the edge, and a moment later, McGonagall's voice called out behind them.

"Coward! COWARD!"

Rebecca could feel the wind pushing against her, her hair in her face. They were flying. Her hands clasped him more tightly, though her wand, still grasped in her left hand, made the movement somewhat painful and nearly impossible.

"Oh gods," she said.

"I realize that flying is not your favorite, Rebecca, but do not squirm," Severus said.

"How did you learn how to do this?" she asked, staring at his chest, the familiar clothing in front of her face and not daring to look around. Riding a broom was certainly one thing. There she had control. Here, she could not falter in her grip or risk falling to certain death.

"The Dark Lord has his uses," Severus said.

She stayed quiet, focusing on holding onto him until they finally began descending, somewhere near the Forbidden Forest. When her feet finally touched the ground, Rebecca let him go, almost falling to the ground because of her shaking knees. She caught herself, taking in a deep breath before looking up at him.

"Next time, just tell me to hang on," she said. "You already know I trust you."

"There won't be a next time."

His words were short, almost clipped. He straightened his robes, then sighed, waving his wand to create a barrier between them and the rest of the world so they could speak. "You've told the Malfoys…?" he said quietly.

"I've communicated with Draco to the best of my abilities that if they do their best to help Harry and the Hogwarts staff and students that I'll be able to help them later. If I get out of Azkaban, that is," Rebecca said.

"You have Harry bloody Potter on your side," Severus said. "You will get out very quickly."

"Even if McGonagall has all the Slytherins leave, Draco's going to stay behind and try to help Harry in whatever way he can. I've given him our code word, so hopefully Harry recognizes it for what it is."

"Hopefully Lucius and Narcissa will do what they can to help not just their son," Severus muttered.

Rebecca nodded. "I'm sure they'll do what's right."

Severus waved his wand once more to rid them of the barrier. He opened his mouth to speak once more.

Suddenly, a voice echoed across the land, and presumably inside of Hogwarts' walls. It was high, cold, and clear. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once, and it commanded attention.

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

Rebecca and Severus stared at one another, silent.

"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded."

A pause.

"You have until midnight."

The silence swallowed them again. Even the creatures of the forest weren't moving, weren't making a sound.

Then, Rebecca bent over, clutching her left forearm as her Dark Mark burned. After a moment, she looked up at him.

"Go," he said. "I'm sure I'll be along momentarily. He probably wishes to get you out of the fray, what with your state."

"Severus," Rebecca said, standing straight and taking a step toward him despite the searing pain in her arm. "I—"

"Go… Rebecca," Severus said.

She didn't hesitate, even at the irritation in his voice. Rebecca closed the gap between them and hugged him, holding onto him a moment against his will. When she next looked up at him, his brow was furrowed and his lips rising into a sneer, but his eyes did not hold the same emotion that the rest of his body was trying to convey.

"Thank you for everything, Severus," she said, heart pounding in her chest as hard as it had been when they'd been running down the corridor.

Rebecca stepped away quickly, pulling up her sleeve to expose her Dark Mark. She looked up at Severus once more.

"You're welcome," he whispered.

She paused, wanting to go to him once more. But she clenched her jaw and pressed her thumb into her Mark. Immediately, she Disapparated, appearing a few moments later in the Shrieking Shack. Her breath came to her quickly.

Tom stood before her, his robes looking somewhat rough around the edges. The Elder Wand he held in both his hands, one end each between a pointer finger. Nagini floated in a magical orb, floating next to him in the starry sphere.

"My apologies for my lateness, my Lord, but I had to get out of the castle first," Rebecca said, bowing.

He stepped toward her, reaching over to draw her up from her bow. His red eyes assessed her for damage quickly, but there was no emotion there. Except for perhaps greed.

She stood straight, looking him in the eye.

"Where is Severus?" he asked.

"We were not together when I heard fighting upstairs," she said. "I was making my way carefully to the Entrance Hall when I received your Summons."

"I must speak to you, Rebecca," Voldemort said. "But knowing you as I do, you will understand what I must tell you is in my best interests. And it will help you, as my follower."

"Of course, my Lord," Rebecca said, bowing her head once more.

Voldemort paused, his eyes flicking downward, looking at the Elder Wand lying in his hand. "You know the tale of the Deathly Hallows?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"What I hold is the Elder Wand," he said, clutching it almost desperately in his right hand. "I took it from Dumbledore's grave. I stole it from its previous owner. But it is not as powerful as it should be in my own hands. I suspect I know where I went wrong."

He paused, watching her carefully. The realization was coming over her face, but she did not appear upset.

"You already know what I'm going to say, don't you, Rebecca?" he asked, lifting his chin so he could peer down at her.

"I don't claim to be swifter than my Lord," Rebecca said quietly, slowly, "but I suspect that I understand where my Lord is going with this line of thought."

"Then you know what I must do to gain my full power," Tom said, stepping forward. His hand reached out to touch her stomach once more possessively. "You know what I must do to create a safe world for the next generation of my followers."

"Yes, my Lord. And I will never question you- not a step of the way. It is what you must do."

Voldemort grinned, his sharp, bone-white teeth gleaming in the darkness of the Shrieking Shack. "You are truly the best of all my Death Eaters, Rebecca," he said, pulling his hand from her stomach. "I knew that the potential I saw within you that day in the forest those years ago, when you thought yourself in the right on Dumbledore's side, would do me good one day. And you have shown me who my true followers are, shown me those who would seek to defy me once I've killed Harry Potter. You have offered me great devotion, and that will not go unrewarded in my new world."

"My Lord?" Rebecca asked, voice shaking slightly.

"Once your child is born, you will be given a position of prominence," Voldemort continued. "You will run Hogwarts in my stead, while I carry out my duties as the new Minister for Magic. You will train the students that I send to you. The purebloods will learn from you all that it means to be my followers."

"You're too kind, my Lord," Rebecca said, bowing her head low.

"It is what you have earned, Rebecca," he said. "The youngest Headmistress Hogwarts has ever seen will also be its greatest."

Rebecca smiled, though inside she felt restless, shaky. Tom beckoned to the chair beside him. It barely stood, but with a flick of his wand, it was repaired to nearly new condition.

"Sit," he said. "We will wait for a while. Potter still has fifteen minutes."

"Thank you, my Lord."

Rebecca took the seat, sitting up straight, her wand in her lap. He did not make to speak to her again, so they remained as they were, the minutes slowly ticking away. Rebecca could feel the small pouches of items throughout the pockets of her robes and uniform. Each pouch contained necessary items to save Severus. And she remembered which pouch would fix what ailment and knew how quickly she could get to each.

She watched Nagini for a while, with little else to do. Tom seemed to be listening outside the walls of the Shrieking Shack and paying her little mind. Nagini appeared, at first, to be quite a normal-looking snake, even if she was an abnormal size. In fact, she appeared to be a large python. However, no normal python was venomous. Rebecca couldn't recall any creature matching Nagini's description from Care of Magical Creatures. But she knew the snake was incredibly intelligent, but loyal only to Tom. All other humans she did not care about.

The snake possibly sensed Rebecca's gaze and moved her head so her unblinking eyes could stare at Rebecca. She made a low hissing sound.

"Nagini wishes to know why you watch her so intently, Rebecca," Voldemort said without looking at her.

"Admiring her beauty," Rebecca said. "I was also thinking that she is the most loyal of your followers, my Lord."

The lie rolled off her tongue easily with the obvious statement. Tom chuckled and did not speak again. And the minutes continued to slide by excruciatingly. Rebecca did not look at the snake again.

"It has been thirty minutes," Voldemort said quietly. He turned to face her and held out a hand. Rebecca placed her left hand into his and clenched her teeth. He pressed his thumb into her Mark.

"Attack," he said to her Mark.

He released her, and Rebecca let her arm fall back onto the arm of the chair, the tingling sensation still filling her body. Voldemort turned toward the wall that faced Hogwarts and stared, as if he could see it.

A moment later, Rebecca could hear shouts, screams, cries, and explosions and crashing sounds. The battle had begun, and she was not there. How much longer did she have to sit here? How much longer until everything would begin?

"Is Bellatrix among those fighting, my Lord?" Rebecca asked after a minute of listening to the distant fighting.

"All of my followers are fighting for me," he said. "She hopes to regain my faith in her through her whole-hearted participation. But I do not see the same in her that I saw so many years ago."

"I hope to never disappoint you so, my Lord," Rebecca said quietly.

"I suspect that you shall not, Rebecca," he said, still watching the wall as if he could see the battle. "You are vastly different from your Black family."

Rebecca looked at her hands in her lap. "Thank you, my Lord."

Another minute or two passed. Time did not seem to matter anymore. She spoke once more.

"Might I request a favor of you, my Lord, for when our battle is through?"

Finally, he turned to look at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Allow me to execute the werewolf," she said. "He has brought you nothing but shame, even in his meager position in the Snatchers. He will stop at nothing, as well, until he has me. And I will not stand for someone like him pursuing me."

"Greyback will be of little use to me once Potter is dead," Voldemort said, turning back to the wall facing Hogwarts. "You have my permission."

"Thank you, my Lord."

He did not respond. A whole five minutes must have passed before he spoke again.

"I will find you another, Rebecca," he said. "Your magic is too powerful to waste. But I will find someone who matches your magical prowess and personality entirely."

"I appreciate your doing so much for me, my Lord," Rebecca said.

"It is in both of our best interests that your children be as strong as they can be," Voldemort said. "And we will find matches for them all, however many you should bear. Your lineage will be powerful and plentiful. And you will be remembered forever. I shall never forget all of the services that you provided me, what you have already done and what you will continue to do. I have yet two more things to ask of you today, Rebecca."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Once I have killed Snape, I will need you to make certain that he is dead," he said. "Stay with him until you are sure his heart no longer beats. Then return to me in the Forbidden Forest. I will be there with the rest of my followers. I will stop the battle soon enough and allow those at Hogwarts time to do what they need with their dead and injured. I will be waiting in the Forest for Potter to give himself up, or I will attack Hogwarts again."

"Yes, my Lord," Rebecca said.

"I am going to suspect that he will come for you even now, Rebecca," Voldemort continued. "What you showed me… what the Mudblood said of him still wanting to rescue you…" He chuckled. "Such Gryffindor sentimentality. And he will still think you loyal to him."

"I'm certain of it, my Lord."

"Then I will use you to make him come. A trade. Your life and your child's for his." He turned around to look at her, eyes glistening with his mirth.

Rebecca smiled. "That is very clever of you, my Lord," she said. "I suspect that will get him to come no matter what."

"And then I shall be rid of him," he said. "And there will be nothing to stand in my way any further."

He turned around and approached her, reaching for her arm once more. "It is time to Summon Severus."

Voldemort pressed his thumb to her Mark again. The burning filled her nerves, and Rebecca squirmed slightly in the chair. "Severus, I have need of you."

He let her go again and turned toward the entrance. "Stand beside me, Rebecca. I want him to be able to see you."

"Yes, my Lord."

She stood beside him as he had indicated. Nagini flanked him on the left and she on the right. It was only a few minutes before Severus appeared before them, wand out and looking as though he had been fighting, though Rebecca suspected he merely appeared that way for Tom's benefit.

"My Lord," Severus said, bowing.

"Severus."

He looked between Rebecca and the Dark Lord, as if trying to assess the situation.

"How goes the battle, Severus?" Voldemort finally asked.

"Well, my Lord. I suspect they shall not be able to hold out much longer."

"That is good to hear."

"Will Rebecca be joining in, my Lord? I imagine she must be more than eager to fight for you."

Rebecca reached up and placed a hand upon her stomach, looking down at it at the same time.

"She will remain here," Voldemort said. "It is safer for her here."

"Of course," Severus said, sounding deflated.

There was quiet enough between the three of them that they could hear the battle continuing at the castle.

"Let me return to the battle. My Lord, their resistance is crumbling—"

"— and it is doing so without you help," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there… almost."

"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."

Rebecca had never heard the word pass Severus' lips before, and it was disconcerting. Severus moved closer to Rebecca, standing before a pile of boxes.

Voldemort moved forward, stopping Severus in his tracks.

"I have a problem, Severus," said Voldemort softly.

"My Lord?"

Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"

In her starry orb, Nagini slithered slightly, becoming more aware of her master's emotions. She hissed softly. Rebecca kept her eyes trained upon Severus, though her expression gave nothing away.

"My—my Lord?" said Severus blankly. "I do not understand. You—you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," said Voldemort. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand… no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago."

Voldemort's tone was musing, calm. But Rebecca noted his body language changing subtly. He held his shoulders forward, making himself appear larger. The slits of his nostrils flared more frequently, and his eyes were slits.

"No difference," said Voldemort again.

Severus did not speak. He kept his looks trained, but Rebecca could see the sweat beginning to form at his hairline.

Voldemort began walking around the room, his pace measured and easy, like his voice. But each footstep struck the floorboards hard.

"I have thought long and hard, Severus… Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?"

Severus' eyes were fixed on Nagini, now that Voldemort was watching him directly.

"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."

"You do not understand Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come to me. He will come to retrieve his friend." He glanced at Rebecca.

"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself—"

"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends—the more, the better—but do not kill him.

"But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable."

"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But—let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can—"

"I have told you, no!" said Voldemort. His red eyes flashed as he turned sharply toward Severus. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"

"My Lord, there can be no question, surely—?"

"—but there _is_ a question, Severus. There is."

Voldemort halted, sliding the Elder Wand through his white fingers, staring at Severus.

"Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"

"I—I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"Can't you?"

Rebecca could almost feel Tom's rage from where she stood. Still she looked at Severus, as if her gaze upon him might help him in some way.

"My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Lucius' wand shattered upon meeting Potter's."

"I—I have no explanation, my Lord."

Severus still looked at Nagini. Rebecca could feel her anxiety growing. She had guessed correctly.

"I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."

Severus finally looked at Voldemort, his face much paler than it normally was. He spoke evenly, but Rebecca could detect the slight shake to his syllables.

"My Lord—let me go to the boy—"

"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner… and I think I have the answer."

Severus did not speak.

"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen, especially because you will not get to see how powerful a servant your child will become."

"My Lord—"

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

"My Lord!" Severus protested, raising his wand.

"It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. Rebecca waited when it did nothing. Severus looked relieved for all of one moment before Nagini's cage began rolling through the air. Before Severus could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort began hissing to Nagini.

Rebecca stood stock-still, teeth biting on the inside of her bottom lip so Voldemort would not see. Her eyes began to water, but she pushed them back, kept her wand gripped in her left hand.

Severus let out a terrible scream. His face lost any color it might have had, and his black eyes widened as the snake's fangs pierced his neck. He failed to push the enchanted cage off himself. His knees gave way and he fell to the floor.

"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

He turned away from Severus, Nagini's cage following him once more. He nodded to Rebecca, who met his eyes and gave a curt nod in response. As Voldemort and Nagini left the Shack, Severus lay on the ground, hands pushing at the skin upon his neck, blood gushing from the bite.

As soon as Voldemort was outside the Shack, Rebecca rushed forward, right hand reaching into her robes for the Blood Replenishing potions and antidote she had made. Her left hand stowed her wand in her robes. She knelt next to him, hands shaking and tears forming in her eyes.

"Take this," she said, pushing the vial to his mouth.

Severus could not resist as she poured the Blood Replenishing potion first down his throat. She shoved her hand against the snake bites upon his neck, diminishing the flow of blood somewhat. She heard boxes moving behind her, and turned to see Harry climbing out of the entryway that led up to the castle. She turned back to Severus and saw that a silvery blue substance was falling from his mouth, eyes, and ears.

Harry was next to her, and Severus reached forward, grasping the boy's robes and pulling him close.

"Take… it…. Take… it…."

Rebecca glanced at Harry and nodded, tears falling from her eyes at her movement. A flask was procured and the was filled quickly with the substance. Rebecca brought the vial with the antidote in it up to her lips and uncorked it, spitting out the cork.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Saving his life," Rebecca said quietly.

Severus' eyes turned slowly toward her, his face drained of all color.

"You're going to take this," Rebecca said, holding the vial up to him.

With what appeared to be a Herculean effort, Severus turned his head, letting go of Harry's robes. His hand fell to the floor.

"Severus, I mean it," Rebecca said, pushing closer to him. Her fingers nearly slid off his neck, and she gripped him more tightly.

She stifled a sob when he still refused.

"Becca, he doesn't want it," Hermione said quietly from behind her.

"Becca, come on, let's go," Ron's voice said, and she felt him touch her shoulder.

She shrugged him off and leaned forward.

"You owe me at least one more thing," she said to Severus, who had closed his eyes to try and ignore her. "One last thing, Severus. And you already know why, so don't pretend you don't." Her words were quick, quiet, but she knew he could hear her. She didn't care that her three best friends were around her. She had to do this.

"A kiss," she said.

It was completely silent around her. Severus didn't open his eyes. "Fine," he whispered, voice gurgling.

Rebecca quickly took the antidote into her mouth and held it. Harry looked to her, almost stopping her. But Hermione's hand held him back. They watched as Rebecca closed the distance between herself and their former Potions Master.

Their lips met for the second time, and she could feel how cold he was. It nearly made her choke, but she pressed further, letting her other hand drop the empty vial. Her left hand still staunched the wound at his neck, and right hand came to cup the back of his head firmly. She pressed her tongue into his mouth forcibly, opening his lips and pouring the antidote from her mouth to his. She pulled back, her hand from the back of his head holding his mouth closed. The black eyes glared at her, but he could not spit out the liquid.

"Swallow," she ordered.

"Becca," Harry said.

The hand upon his wound quickly went to his throat and massaged. Severus swallowed, brows furrowed as best he could get them, and her hand was back upon his wound. Severus bared his teeth at her, but could say no more.

Rebecca's hand was quickly upon the vial of dittany. She uncorked this with her teeth as well. By the time she looked back up, Severus had passed out. But he would be fine.

"An effect of the antidote," she said. "And the blood loss, I imagine."

She sprinkled the dittany over his wound, and the skin bubbled and stretched over the wound, though barely so.

Quickly she took out the gauze she had also packed away. Hermione moved forward to help her, and together they wrapped his neck.

Voldemort's voice was suddenly filling the air again as they worked, but Rebecca paid it no mind. She needed to finish this quickly so she could get back to Voldemort and report Severus dead. The magic of the Life Debt she could feel pull from her core. But everything else she felt remained intact.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery."

The gauze was finally wrapped about his neck. The four of them listened as Rebecca gave Severus the remaining two vials of Blood Replenishing potion.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of you dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

"On it," Rebecca muttered, beginning to clean her hands of blood.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest.

"I also have a friend of yours, Harry Potter. Rebecca Felan. I know that she is dear to you. If you do not face me in the Forbidden Forest, she and her unborn child will die. And you will have no one to blame but yourself."

All eyes locked upon Rebecca, who had finished cleaning her hands and robes of blood at this point. She held up a finger.

"If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One Hour."

"Are you really pregnant?" Ron nearly shouted.

"No," Rebecca said with a roll of her eyes. "And he's not actually going to kill me. He's saying that to get to you, Harry."

Her eyes met his, and she saw raw fear.

"I think those are his memories," Rebecca continued. "Watch them—please. They were obviously important enough he wanted you to see them."

"What was… all of that?" Harry asked.

"Repaying a Life Debt," Rebecca said. "And saving someone I care about. You can understand that."

Harry paused, about to speak. But he finally nodded.

"He's not everything we thought about him, was he?" Hermione asked.

"No," Rebecca said. "He's not."

Severus appeared to be conscious, somewhat, and one of his lids lifted slightly and found her immediately. If it was possible for a man to be half-conscious and glare, he managed it. Rebecca bent close to him once more.

"It's gone," she whispered. He would know what she was talking about. Even more quietly, she said, "And I love you."

His black eye glared more harshly at her.

"You're welcome," Rebecca said, sitting back up. She found his wand only a foot or so away and placed it inside of her robes.

"I need you to take him back to the castle and see he's not hurt," Rebecca said. "Keep him under the cloak if you can, or at least hide him somewhere safe."

She handed Hermione a Sleeping Draught. "Give this to him if you need to keep him quiet. He's a bit suicidal."

They all stood up, and Hermione began to levitate the man. He seemed to have gone unconscious again, as his eye was closed.

"I have to get to Tom," Rebecca said, throwing her arms around Harry, Ron, and Hermione in turn. "I have to tell him Severus is dead."

"Don't go to him, Becca," Harry said.

All three of them had a hand upon her.

"I have to," she said. "If I don't, he'll suspect something is up."

"You're going to risk your neck for _Snape_?" Ron asked.

"Just as he's risked his neck for me countless times this year," Rebecca said, green eyes flashing at him. "I have to go now, and you three need to get back up to the castle. Watch the memories, Harry, please." She paused once more. "And you'll be fine, whatever you decide to do. We all have faith in you, Harry, especially me."

Harry nodded, slowly letting go of Rebecca. The other two followed his lead, and they turned away from each other. Rebecca felt anxious, not knowing if her friends would really keep Severus safe. But Hermione had seemed convinced, and she had always been a terrible actress. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, beginning to run into the Forbidden Forest.

She reached the clearing where they would be within a few minutes. It wasn't difficult to find, what with all the noise they were making. She walked from the tree line, and all eyes were upon her.

The Death Eaters formed a circle around Voldemort, who was in the middle. Nagini floated in her protective orb behind him. A large fire was burning in front of the whole group. Giants and other creatures were on the outskirts. Behind Greyback was Hagrid, chained to a massive tree to keep him in place. He looked up when Rebecca entered the clearing, but said nothing.

Rebecca approached Voldemort quickly. He held out his hand and pressed it upon her shoulder.

"He's dead, my Lord," she said. "It took a bit longer than suspected. But he will not cause you anymore problems."

Bellatrix, standing as close as she could get to the Dark Lord, looked Rebecca over once more.

"Very good," Voldemort said, moving Rebecca so that she would stand beside him. "Now we wait for Harry Potter."

Bellatrix was on Rebecca's side, still looking at her every so often.

"Snape," she said suddenly. "He's really dead."

"Yes," Rebecca answered, not looking at her.

"And you watched him die… with his baby in your belly?"

"Yes." Slowly, she turned and locked eyes with Bellatrix, hands upon her stomach. And she kept the woman's gaze, her own unwavering and neutral. Eventually, Bellatrix lowered her gaze and looked away.

Lucius and Narcissa were standing a few feet to their front, trying to console one another. Not seeing Draco, Rebecca assumed that he was somewhere in the castle still. Hopefully, some good had come of that. Greyback was biting his long nails farther away from the main group centered around Voldemort. Two giants stood even farther back from him. Rowle, the great blond Death Eater, was dabbing at a few wounds that were still bleeding.

There was only silence for the next fifty minutes. Then, Dolohov and Yaxley entered the clearing.

"No sign of him, my Lord," said Dolohov.

Voldemort's expression did not change. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. Slowly he drew the Elder Wand between his long fingers.

"My Lord—"

Bellatrix had spoken.

Voldemort raised his hand to silence her, and she did not speak another word, but eyed him in worshipful fascination.

"I thought he would come," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, his eyes on the leaping flames. "I expected him to come."

Nobody spoke. They were scared. Rebecca was scared, knowing how vengeful he could be on the wrong people. The quietness of the forest was pervasive, creeping into her bones and settling there to make her even more anxious.

"I was, it seems, mistaken," said Voldemort.

"You weren't."

Harry's voice carried as he stepped into the firelight.

The giant roared as the Death Eaters rose together, and there were many cries, gasps, even laughter. Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes had found Harry, and he stared as Harry moved toward him, with nothing but the fire between them.

"HARRY! NO!"

Hagrid shook the massive tree to attempt an escape, to rescue Harry.

"NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT'RE YEH—"

"QUIET!" shouted Rowle, and with a flick of his wand Hagrid was silenced.

Bellatrix, who had leapt to her feet, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, her breast heaving. Rebecca looked at Harry, who stared back at her. The fear that she had seen in him before was completely gone. He looked calm, prepared, and… A cold chill went through her. He was ready to die.

She moved forward, and Voldemort caught her. Rebecca gave him a look, and Voldemort turned, clutching Rebecca tightly.

"I've come to trade myself for Becca," Harry said. "Don't hurt her. Don't hurt anyone else. It's me you want, Voldemort."

The Death Eaters all hissed and cried out at the blatant use of their Lord's name.

"I am a merciful man, as I've said," Voldemort said. "You have your deal, Harry Potter."

He drew Rebecca to him. "Act like his friend. Do not leave the clearing, no matter what."

He shoved her forward without waiting for an answer. Rebecca stumbled forward, catching herself and standing. She walked quickly to Harry, doing her best to look brave. He held his arms open and rushed to her, crushing her to his chest.

"Harry, don't do this," she whispered quickly, her own arms clinging to him desperately.

"It's fine, Becca, I know what I have to do," he said. "He's hidden in the corridor behind the Great Hall, behind the statue just behind the door. He's fine. His memories told me what I have to do."

"Thank you, but Harry, please—don't!" she said.

He was pulling away from her. Rebecca suddenly didn't need to act as she found herself rushing after him.

"Harry, what're you doing?"

"Becca, go back," Harry said, pushing off her arm. "This was a fair trade." His eyes widened as he turned to look at her. "I did this for you, Becca. For everyone. I love you. I love you all. Please, go."

He pushed her back gently.

"I love you too, Harry," she whispered. Then she took a few steps back, but she didn't leave the clearing.

But Harry wasn't paying any more attention to her. He stood directly in front of Voldemort, only air separating them.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said very softly. "The Boy Who Lived."

None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting.

Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Still Harry stood, without fear, waiting.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

The flash of green light overtook the clearing, and Harry dropped to the ground. Rebecca stood still, her limbs shaking. She was just yards behind him. She'd watched him stand there, unafraid, could do nothing when Voldemort cast the spell. And now she had to move toward Voldemort, who had too fallen to the ground when he'd cast the Killing Curse.

She reached him soon, but others were already there. Bellatrix was whispering to him like a lover might whisper to another.

"That will do," Voldemort said when she kept pressing toward him.

Death Eaters shuffled backwards, but Bellatrix and Rebecca remained beside Voldemort as he stood.

"My Lord, let me—" Bellatrix reached toward him.

"I do not require assistance," said Voldemort coldly.

Bellatrix recoiled. Rebecca stood by him, waiting to see what he would do next. No one moved.

Voldemort turned to Rebecca then, looking as though he was still having trouble regaining his power.

"You and Narcissa, examine him," he said quietly. "Tell me whether he is dead."

"Yes, my Lord," Rebecca said quietly, bowing her head before rushing toward Narcissa.

She approached Narcissa, who was one of the people closest to the bodies.

"Our Lord wishes to verify Potter's death," she said.

Narcissa nodded, and they approached him. Rebecca could feel her hands trembling as they both knelt beside him. Rebecca pulled back one of his eyelids to see his eye rolled up in his head… though not quite as it should have been. But she kept her face neutral.

Narcissa had her hand upon his chest, her face very close to Harry's own. Their backs faced the crowd and Voldemort, so when Rebecca looked up, she could see Narcissa could feel a pulse. Rebecca put her own hand on his chest. His heart hammered.

"_Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?_"

Narcissa's whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

Rebecca heard Harry breath back, "_Yes_."

Relief swept through her, but she looked to Narcissa as normally as she could when the woman sat back up. They nodded to each other.

"He is dead!" Narcissa called to the watchers.

Now came the shouts of triumph, the stamping of their feet. Death Eaters everywhere sent fireworks into the air in celebration. Rebecca and Narcissa moved back toward the group.

"You see?" screeched Voldemort over the tumult. "Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! _Crucio_!"

Rebecca watched on, trying not to reveal her pained expression as her friend's limp body was thrown into the air. His glasses flew off and crashed to the ground. When Voldemort was finished, every jeered and laughed.

"Now," said Voldemort, "we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body? No—Wait—"

Voldemort waved his wand, and the chains unhooked from the tree and forced Hagrid forward. Voldemort led him to Harry and made him stand before the lifeless body.

"You carry him," Voldemort said. "He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses—put on the glasses—he must be recognizable—"

Rowle stepped forward and picked Harry's glasses up off the ground before slamming them back onto his face. Afterward, Hagrid leaned down and picked up Harry, enormous hands extremely gentle. The half-giant began to sob, great tears splashing down upon Harry. It was almost too much for Rebecca. But Narcissa's hands were upon her shoulders, pushing her forward, reminding her where she was. And her desperation to get to her son was evident upon her face.

"We have done what you've asked," she whispered in Rebecca's ear. "I have saved him, and Lucius has saved your Lupin friend. I know you will hold up your end."

Rebecca nodded.

"Move," said Voldemort, and Hagrid stumbled forward, forcing his way through the close-growing trees, back through the forest.

Everyone crowded around Hagrid. Voldemort raised his hand and called to Rebecca. She nodded to Lucius and Narcissa and went to him.

"Stay close to me," he ordered. "Do not leave my side if you can help it."

"Yes, my Lord."

They made their way through the forest, the giants lumbering behind them. Soon, they had stumbled upon a few centaurs.

"BANE!" cried Hagrid. "Happy now, are yeh, that yeh didn' fight, yeh cowardly bunch o' nags? Are yeh happy Harry Potter's—d-dead…?"

Hagrid broke down in fresh tears. The centaurs said nothing, merely disappeared into the forest. Some of the Death Eaters called insults back at the centaurs, but they continued forward. Soon, they reached the edge of the forest, looking up at the castle.

"Stop."

Hagrid came to a halt suddenly, as did the rest of the group.

Rebecca followed Voldemort to the front of the procession, staying less than a foot behind him as he'd bid her to.

A moment later, Voldemort magically magnified his voice once more.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that you hero is gone.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will ever member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

There was silence in the grounds and from the castle.

"Come," said Voldemort. He moved ahead, Rebecca tailing him and Nagini, the giant snake wrapped around his shoulders.

Hagrid moved forward as well.

"Harry," Rebecca heard Hagrid sob. "Oh, Harry… Harry…"

The Death Eaters tramped up to the castle until they stood directly outside of it.

"Stop."

Everyone came to a halt once more. They spread out in a line facing the castle. They were met with an open Entrance Hall door, the staff and students of Hogwarts and members of the Order lined up, watching them.

"NO!" cried Professor McGonagall.

The sound was ragged, strained, and entirely something McGonagall would never have made normally. Bellatrix began cackling from wherever she was on the line.

"No!"

"_No_!"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all cried out. Then, the group standing inside of Hogwarts began yelling abuse at the Death Eaters.

"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Hagrid did as he was bid, still sobbing over Harry's body. Rebecca stood close to Voldemort, as close as she could get to Harry. She just had to wait for the right moment, and then they could get out of the fray, away from him…

"You see?" said Voldemort, striding back and forth behind Harry's body. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort and there was relish in his voice for the lie, "killed while trying to save himself.

Rebecca's heart suddenly leapt into her throat as Neville broke off from the group, running toward Voldemort. Another bang, and Neville was grunting in pain as he fell to the ground. Voldemort held Neville's wand in his hand, then tossed it aside.

"And who is this?" he said in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

"It's Neville Longbottom," Rebecca said, loud enough so everyone could hear. She stepped forward. "He's been giving the Carrows trouble all year before he disappeared, my Lord. The son of the Aurors Bellatrix tortured, if you remember, my Lord."

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled into fists.

"So what is I am?" said Neville loudly.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Neville. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort's Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold.

"Very well," said Voldemort, his voice low. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head," he said quietly, "be it."

Voldemort waved his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the air and landed in Voldemort's hand. As he lifted it by a point, Rebecca saw that it was the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There was movement from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay. Rebecca held her wand steady, though her eyes were still flicking between Neville and Harry.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happened to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move.

The people standing at the entrance of the castle all suddenly rushed forward, uttering loud war cries. At the same time, Grawp came lumbering around the side of the castle and yelled, "HAGGER!" His cry was answered by roars from Voldemort's giants: They ran at Grawp like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise. Rebecca knelt and clutched Harry just as he began moving to pull the Invisibility Cloak out of his robes. He looked up, smiling at her, as he pulled it over the both of them.

They moved as Neville did. In one swift movement, he broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths…

"Gryffindor's sword," Rebecca said.

The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet—

Harry and Rebecca cast two strong Shield Charms between Voldemort and Neville before the former could raise his wand. Then, over the screams and the roars and the thunderous stamps of the battling giants, Hagrid's yell came loudest of all.

"HARRY! HARRY—WHERE'S HARRY?"

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where. There were great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort's giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them; and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle.

Harry and Rebecca were back-to-back shooting as many jinxes and curses as they could. They were buffeted into the Entrance Hall. Rebecca knew Harry was looking for Voldemort. He was across the room, firing spells from his wand as he backed into the Great Hall, still screaming instructions to his followers as he sent curses flying left and right. They cast more Shield Charms at the would-be victims as they entered the Great Hall with the rest of the fight.

There were more people storming up the front steps. Charlie Weasley was helping Horace Slughorn up, who still wore his emerald green pajamas. Charlie seemed to consider the man for a moment before Slughorn Stunned a Death Eater coming up behind Charlie. The Weasley nodded and slapped Slughorn on the shoulder before they both turned to the fighting again. It looked as though every family member and friend of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade, had come back to fight. The centaurs Bane, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves. Behind them, the door the led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges.

The house elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the Entrance Hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, and at their head, the locket of Regular Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog's voice audible even above this din: "Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!"

They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of Death Eaters, their tiny faces alive with malice, and everywhere Rebecca looked Death Eaters were folding under sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spelled, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.

As Harry and Rebecca dodged those dueling, Rebecca spotted Greyback dueling with Neville and Ron.

"I've gotta go, Harry," she said. "Good luck!"

She burst out from under the cloak before he could stop her, rushing through the crowd until she reached Greyback.

"He's mine!" she cried, casting a Shield Charm on either side of her, blocking Neville and Ron from the werewolf.

"Traitor!" barked Greyback, wand at the ready. "_Crucio_!"

Rebecca dodged the spell easily, shooting back a Stunner that hit Greyback square in the chest. He fell to his knees, and she sent another at him, sending him crumpling to the floor.

"Not so dangerous when I have a wand, are you?" Rebecca growled, stepping on his wrist to force him to release his wand. He growled as she took the wand and stowed it in her robes, then put him in a Body-Bind.

She turned back to the center of the Great Hall, where Voldemort was currently dueling Kingsley, McGonagall, and Slughorn at the same time. There was cold hatred on his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him.

Bellatrix was fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them. A Killing Curse missed Ginny by and inch, and Rebecca was already on her way over when Mrs. Weasley came out of nowhere, wand pointed and magic crackling around her.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, who all gave them room, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel.

Rebecca approached the girls and touched Hermione on the shoulder, getting everyone's attention.

But they watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, and the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! _Get back_! She is mine!"

Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fights, Voldemort and his three opponents, Bellatrix and Molly.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

Rebecca felt her blood run cold. Fred. Her hand was already reaching into her cloak, drawing out the Black dagger she'd taken from Bellatrix's hands herself.

"You—will—never—touch—our—children—again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Rebecca took aim as Bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh her cousin Sirius had given as he toppled backward through the veil. Rebecca took a step forward, pushing into the open space left for those dueling, and released the dagger. It soared through the air at rapid speed and hit Bellatrix square in the chest.

An instant later, Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's still outstretched arm and hit her just above the dagger, directly over her heart.

Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, and she looked between Molly and Rebecca. The students around Rebecca all looked at her, too. Her whole frame shook, and she looked about ready to collapse. Then Bellatrix toppled. The watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

Rebecca ran to Molly, intent upon getting her out of Voldemort's way. Her wand was at the ready, about to cast as many Shield Charms as she could manage.

Voldemort's three opponents were blasted backward, flailing and writhing through the air as Voldemort's fury exploded with the force of a bomb. Rebecca reached Molly, and the two turned toward the man as he pointed his wand at them.

"_Protego_!" Rebecca yelled, hearing her spell echoed in the now silent room. The force of the two charms expanded around her and Molly.

Voldemort stared at her, and Rebecca's chest heaved as she looked back at him, resolute. Then Voldemort turned to find the source of the second charm.

Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry called loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither cane live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…."

Rebecca reached forward and pulled the dagger from Bellatrix's chest with one rough yank. Molly tugged on her arm, pulling her back into the crowd. The Weasley clan and Hermione embraced them.

"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taunt and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still circling one another. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"_Accidents_!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry said they circled. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people—"

"But you did not!"

"—I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"_You dare_—"

"Yes, I dare," said Harry. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle.

"Is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, _love_, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? _Love_, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," said Harry.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," said Voldemort, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," said Harry.

Shock flitted across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled. Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

"You think _you _know more magic than I do?" he said. "Than _I_, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did," said Harry, "but you were wrong."

The watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.

"_Dumbledore is dead_!" Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as thought they would cause him unendurable pain. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?"

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Harry. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you starts hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe," said Harry, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized," he said as he saw Voldemort's nostrils flare, "he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," sneered Voldemort, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him—"

"Of course he told you that," said Harry, " but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

Voldemort's eyes flashed to her for an instant. He brandished his wand in her direction, and Rebecca stepped away from the crowd, drawing his wand elsewhere.

"You," Voldemort said, his voice low.

"I'm not yours either," Rebecca said.

"You told me Potter was dead."

"I lied," Rebecca said.

But Voldemort did not attack, even still. He was afraid, Rebecca decided. He knew that his time was growing short. He didn't know what to do. She could see the panic in his eyes.

"And Snape?"

"I saved him," Rebecca said.

Voldemort roared with frustration, but still did not cast any spell. "You have chosen the wrong path, Rebecca Felan. I would have made you so much greater than you could be merely as Potter's friend."

"I don't have to listen to you anymore, Tom, so why don't you just shut it," Rebecca snapped, eyes flashing. She took a few steps forward, standing behind Harry and to his side a few yards behind him now. "By the way, I'm not pregnant. I was never going to bring in the next generation of your followers. I was never going to let you gain that power."

Voldemort raised his wand, but Rebecca already had a Shield Charm up, and Harry raised his wand in response. Voldemort stopped, looking between the two of them.

"I still defeated Snape," Voldemort said. "The Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter! He intended for Snape to be the true master of the wand! But it is mine now."

"That's what Dumbledore intended, but that's not what happened," Rebecca said.

The Hall went quiet once more. Harry did not look back at her, but she could practically see him thinking as the tension in his shoulders increased.

"Draco," Harry said. "Draco took the wand from Dumbledore before Snape even got there."

"Exactly," Rebecca said.

Voldemort sneered. "The tale says you must—"

"Defeat the wand's previous master," Harry said, wand still pointed at Voldemort. "You're missing quite a few points it seems, Riddle. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done…. Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…."

"What is this?"

His red eyes were wide with shock before his pupils contracted to think slits. The skin around his eyes whitened.

"It's your last chance," said Harry, "it's all you've got left. I've seen what you'll be otherwise…. Be a man… try… Try for some remorse…."

"You dare—?" said Voldemort again.

"Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."

Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped the wand he held very tightly. Rebecca saw now that it was Draco's, the best wand he could possibly be holding at the moment. Surely Voldemort would recognize Draco's wand.

"_The wand chooses the wizard_," Harry said. "The Elder Wand recognized Draco as its new master before Dumbledore died."

Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly.

"But what does it matter?" Voldemort said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…."

"But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone on the Hall upon it.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Rebecca took a step back just as a red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both Voldemort and Harry's faces at the same time. Their voices shrieked out their spells at nearly the same moment.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. The green jet met the red in an explosion. Rebecca watched as the Elder Wand flew high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of scarlet rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

Rebecca was the first to move. Her footsteps echoed in the silence Hall as she rushed to Harry and threw her arms around him. Their grips were crushing each other, and she was crying. Cheers and screams and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward him. Hermione and Ron were suddenly upon him. The Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall, Lupin, Flitwick and Sprout.

"Harry!" Rebecca called into his ear. He nodded once over the tumult. "The Aurors will come! We need a new Minister!"

"Kingsley!" Harry called back into her ear.

Rebecca nodded. "You have the power, Harry! Use it! I need to—"

"Go!" Harry said, pulling from her and trying his best to push her through the crowd around them. "We'll come for you!"

Ron and Hermione suddenly were hugging her, but Rebecca could no longer take any of the noise, the crowd, the feeling of being trapped. She patted them as gently as she could and extricated herself from the crowd, running across the Great Hall, panting softly, wand still held tightly in her left hand. Her body was weary, her mind racing, thinking of all the possible events that could happen next.

The door behind the staff table opened without resistance. She stepped into the quiet corridor and shut out the sound. The first statue stood only ten yards away, and she rushed to it. Severus must have been Disillusioned, because there was nothing there.

"_Finite_."

He appeared just as she had left him. But both of his eyes were open. He had returned to his normal pale pallor, though his face still looked gaunt. In his features, Rebecca could see how tired he was. And he was still glaring.

Rebecca knelt next to him, finally stowing her wand inside her robes. He wouldn't be able to speak just yet. But she didn't need him to speak, perhaps didn't want him to.

"Glare at me all you want, Severus," she said quietly. "I don't regret it."

He decided that his looks were ineffective, she imagined, because he shut his eyes a moment afterward. It was perhaps twenty minutes later before the door leading to the Great Hall opened once more. Rebecca sat next to Severus' head, not touching him. Instead, she watched him, checking him to make certain he was as stable as he was going to get.

She looked up when the door opened, seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione enter. They were quiet, then all sat around her. None of them spoke for a while.

"I dropped the Stone in the forest," Harry said. "But we just got back from Dumbledore's office. He said it was for the better, especially since no one's likely to find it."

Rebecca nodded. "I agree."

"I'm keeping the Cloak, though."

Rebecca gave a tired smile and looked up at him. "I wouldn't expect any less."

Then Harry held up his newly-mended wand. "The Elder Wand fixed it. I'm going to put it back in Dumbledore's tomb, so its spell will be broken. No one else will die for it—not again."

"That's very noble, Harry," Rebecca said, her voice level in her seriousness. "You're doing the right thing."

He nodded.

"How is he?" Hermione asked.

Rebecca shrugged. "He'll need to go to St. Mungo's for monitoring. But I think we're going to be taken to Azkaban first."

"The Ministry's on its way," Ron said. "Dad's been in contact with the remaining officials over there by Floo. They took down the remaining Death Eaters at the Ministry and are headed here next."

Rebecca nodded.

"He'll go to St. Mungo's," Harry said. "I owe him at least that."

"We'll do whatever we can for you," Hermione said.

"I'm staying with him," Rebecca said. "There's no telling what will happen if he's left alone with anyone else. Someone could attempt to kill him before he gets a trial."

Ron opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he thought better of whatever he'd been going to say. Harry nodded.

"I understand… that I have power now," Harry said. "I intend to use it well, Becca. Just like you did. Just like Snape."

Rebecca smiled. Then she looked to Ron. "I—I'm sorry. About Fred."

Ron looked to the floor, nodding. "There was nothing anyone could've done," he said quietly. "Percy did get Rookwood back. And Draco…" He shook his head. "I dunno what to think of that."

"Draco abandoned Crabbe to help us escape the Room of Requirement," Hermione said quietly. "Crabbe had cast Fiendfyre, and we couldn't escape it. He kept pushing us forward until we found some discarded brooms, then he led us out."

"He helped Percy hunt down Rookwood," Harry said. "Called him over so that Percy could attack him."

"Lucius Malfoy saved Lupin," Ron said. "He tried to help Tonks, but he wasn't fast enough…"

"Tonks?" Rebecca asked, feeling her hands clench. "Who?"

"Bellatrix," Harry said.

"I never thought I'd be glad for someone to be dead," Rebecca said, her eyes closed. "How is Remus?"

"Still in shock," Hermione said. "But Teddy is with Andromeda. He'll… he'll heal."

Harry was going to speak when another eruption broke out in the Great Hall. Rebecca took out her wand and Severus' from her robes. Severus wasn't moving, but his chest still rose and fell with his regular breathing. Rebecca handed Harry their wands.

"Give them over," she said quietly. "Tell them we're coming willingly."

Then she grabbed Severus' arm gently, leaning over him to shield the worst of his injuries from view as she watched the door. Her friends looked to her. Harry saw her face change, her features going from his friend to the spy he didn't know or understand. But she still looked shaken, shocked. How would she cope in Azkaban?

But there wasn't time. The door opened, and three Aurors entered the small corridor, wands pointed in all directions. Harry, Hermione, and Ron rose slowly, and Harry held out the wands.

"Rebecca Felan and Severus Snape are here," Harry said. "He needs to be taken to St. Mungo's, and Rebecca is to go with him."

"Are they both injured?" the nearest Auror asked, stepping toward Harry.

Harry pulled the wands from him before he could snatch them away. "No," he said. "But they're both under my protection, if you catch my meaning. I want them to be taken care of."

"They will still need to go to Azkaban to await trial," said the Auror before him. "They both bear the Dark Mark."

"They understand that," Harry said. "And they'd like it to be noted that they've given themselves up willingly."

He slowly extended the wands out to the Auror, who took them and stowed them in his robes.

"Should anything happen to them or their wands, I'd be very displeased," Harry said sternly, looking directly into the eyes of the Auror in charge.

The Auror broke eye contact with Harry quickly, but gave a curt nod in response. He motioned for the other two Aurors to collect Rebecca and Severus. Rebecca clutched his arm more firmly, her other hand holding onto his protectively. He still did not respond.

"Get up, we have to levitate him," said the second Auror.

"Then you'll need to levitate us both," Rebecca said calmly, staring at the man. "I'm not leaving his side."

There was a long pause.

"I don't trust anyone in the Ministry," Rebecca said. "I think it's easy to understand why after this year. I won't have him hurt." Her eyes narrowed just slightly as she looked between the Aurors.

"Levitate them both," the Auror in charge said. "Just get on with it."

The second Auror flicked his wand, and Rebecca rose into the air with Severus. They slowly passed Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who watched her leave with sad expressions.

"I'll be fine," Rebecca said as she passed them. "Don't worry."

But already she could feel her heart sinking. Azkaban.


	13. The Summer After the Final Battle

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for Rebecca. I don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **I'd like to thank my lovely RP partner and friend Mandy for inspiring me in a direction to go with the rest of this story. That's why I've been able to write so much recently. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I also love reviews.

Songs for this chapter:

"Cough Syrup" by Young the Giant

"Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons

"Listen" by Beyonce

* * *

_St. Mungo's, May 2-4, 1998_

Severus could not remain conscious for very long, no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open. His vision wavered, blurring and blacking out unexpectedly. One moment he thought he could hear Potter's voice, then it was gone. Then he heard unfamiliar voices, Rebecca's challenging them.

He opened his eyes, saw only the back of her head. Her fiery red hair obscured most of his vision, and she appeared to be covering him from view. They were in the Great Hall, and he could sense hundreds of eyes upon them.

"This is Greyback's wand," she was saying. "Take it. I don't want it and I don't plan on using it."

"Why didn't you give this to Potter?" another voice, authoritative, demanded.

"Because I want there to be an understanding between us," Rebecca said. "I don't know you and you don't know me. But now you _do_ know something about me, and that is that I don't want to harm you."

There was silence as they made their way across the Great Hall, Rebecca's body and hair still obscuring most things from his view. She believed she was protecting him, Severus' slow mind suddenly realized. But it would have been better had she just let him die…

He faded out again, the darkness of the back of his eyelids taking over once more.

Rebecca didn't look down at him, even noting the changing of his breathing. They headed toward a fireplace. They were going to Floo to St. Mungo's, probably much easier than trying to side-along two prisoners. The green fire enveloped them, and once they were out and in the main lobby of the wizarding hospital, the Auror took charge once more. A mediwitch ushered them along the floor and led them up some stairs at a brisk pace.

Finally, they were in a room to themselves.

"The girl, Felan, she won't leave him," the head Auror told the mediwitch who had led them up here.

"You must allow us to administer aid to him," the mediwitch said, turning to Rebecca.

"He's has three vials full of Blood Replenishing potion and an antidote for the venom of the snake that bit him," Rebecca said quickly, slowly sitting up.

"Thank you for telling me," the mediwitch said. "Rebecca. May I call you that? I'm Amanda."

Rebecca nodded. "I did what I could for him, Amanda. I'm hoping you can get him stable."

She let go of Severus, her hands trembling as she did so. Amanda the mediwitch levitated him onto the bed before calling for more help. Two other mediwitches entered the room and circled around Severus. Rebecca watched them carefully, standing a few feet from the bed.

The head Auror's voice called to her once more. "I can't leave you alone with him," he said. "You're both still under arrest. I'm treating you differently as a favor to Potter, you understand?"

Rebecca nodded, briefly glancing at him. "What's your name?"

"Gawain Robards."

"The new Head Auror," Rebecca said quietly. "Hopefully I'll like you better than Scrimgeour." She looked back to Severus, who was still unconscious. The mediwitches were taking readings on every possible vital sign before deciding what next to do.

"Rebecca Felan, you bare the Dark Mark, the symbol of the Dark Lord," Gawain said, taking out his wand slowly. "You're under arrest for treason against the Ministry of Magic and the wizarding world until a trial can be held for you."

Rebecca held out her wrists, not bothering to look at him again. He paused before tapping his wand against her nearest wrist. Magical binding soon wrapped up her hands and wrists, clamping her hands together.

He took her upper arm, but Rebecca shrugged away from him. "I prefer not to be touched," she said.

The Head Auror didn't say anything, instead gesturing to a chair next to the door of the room.

"We'll allow you to sit here," he said. "But I'll leave one of my men with you to watch over you and Snape. Once the mediwitches deem him stable, you'll both be going to Azkaban."

Rebecca was quiet for a moment. "I'd prefer a friend of Tonks', if at all possible," she said quietly. "If you know of any." She looked up at the Head Auror once more, her green eyes tired. "She was a friend of mine. I'd like to talk to someone about her, to see that she was well. I didn't get a chance to tell her goodbye."

Gawain Robards stared at the young witch sitting quietly in the chair before him. She looked ragged, dark circles under her eyes. Her hair hung limply about her face, and her shoulders were hunched forward in defeat. This was not how this girl had been described to him, not by those who had witnessed her or heard tell of her. It wasn't even how Tonks spoke of her. There had been a lot of talk about the young Slytherin, especially her rise to power in the Malfoy family and at Hogwarts. It was suspected that she bore the Dark Mark, but she also bore other scars in their shape. Those did not appear on any other known Death Eaters. Tonks had explained their origin to the Aurors quietly one day. She had always spoken well of the Felan girl. Were the rumors true? he wondered. Were she and Snape spying for Dumbledore this whole time?

Finally, he nodded. "Anthony was a friend of Tonks'," he said, motioning to the men standing outside. "I'll see if he will stay."

"I thank you," Rebecca whispered, looking back to Severus. The mediwitches were currently about to inject him with something.

"Excuse me, but what are you giving him?" Rebecca asked, her voice raised. The confidence that had seemed lost suddenly reappeared, and the tiredness that she showed the Head Auror gone.

Gawain watched the transformation with curiosity, glancing at the mediwitches to see how they would react.

"A Calming Draught," said the mediwitch holding the vial.

"The Calming Draught, when brewed correctly, is a light blue," Rebecca said, brows furrowing. "That potion has a color consistent with Deflating Draught, which might be appropriate for someone whose appendage was swollen by anything but venom."

Amanda turned to the mediwitch holding the vial and took it from her hands. "We are healers, not the executers," she said, voice terse. "You're excused, Nicole."

Rebecca watched the mediwitch leave, her eyes following the woman until she had left the room. Gawain watched Felan, noting that when the offending mediwitch had left, her eyes went back to Amanda.

"We are going to administer him a Calming Draught," she said, placing the vial in the cabinet on the other side of the room, beside Severus' bed. "It will ease the tension in his body and allow the antidote to go through his system. We'll monitor him every thirty minutes after that to see what more he might need."

She turned around so Rebecca could see the vial. Light blue. Rebecca nodded. Amanda reached down and opened Severus' mouth gently, tipping the vial's contents into his mouth. She induced swallowing, then replaced the empty vial in a bin for disposal.

"You're also dismissed, Bethany," Amanda said. "I'll remain with the patient."

The second mediwitch nodded and left the room. Gawain turned to follow her and sent in Anthony.

"She's different," he said. "Protective of Snape. Doesn't seem to regard her own safety."

"You think she's still on our side?" Anthony asked. "That thing about Tonks could've been a lie."

"You remember how Tonks spoke of her," Gawain said quietly. "That girl in there is not the same. She's been affected by what she's seen. And if reports are true, she captured Greyback. His wand is just corroboration on that. Supposedly, she also threw a dagger at Bellatrix Lestrange."

He pulled the dagger out of his robes. "Fresh blood," he said. "I'm going to have it tested once I get back to the Ministry. But I bet you think is Lestrange's blood."

Anthony nodded. "I'll stay with her and Snape until they're let go."

"Good. See to it no one enters beside me or the mediwitch that's in there now. We can't have either of them getting harmed. They're under Potter's protection. And we owe that boy at least that after he got rid of You-Know-Who."

"Yes, sir."

Rebecca looked up at the Auror who entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He was one of the ones who levitated her and Severus.

"You say you're a friend of Tonks'."

"I am. And her husband's. And her son's."

She didn't look at him for long, though Anthony didn't sense it was out of any sort of shame. Remorse, maybe. Sadness. She watched Snape lying on the bed intently, her eyes never moving from the accused Death Eater.

"She liked to transform her face into a pig for our amusement," Rebecca said quietly.

Anthony looked down at her, seeing the tears brimming on the edges of her eyes.

"I liked her because she was clumsy like me," the girl continued. "We bonded over something so simple, so stupid… I was glad when I finally saw how much she cared for Remus. They're two of the best people I know. Their wedding was beautiful, just like Teddy."

She finally looked down at her lap, her hands bound magically together. She seemed to barely be holding herself together.

"I know that I can trust a friend of hers," she whispered. "And I hope you'll tell me her last few months were happy ones."

Anthony wasn't sure how to respond. The Slytherin before him, someone that bore the Dark Mark, was showing sadness at the death of someone on the opposing side of the Dark Lord. She spoke openly and contextualized their friendship.

"She was as happy as any of us could have been surrounded by Death Eaters on all sides," Anthony finally replied, his tone even. "She had her husband and her son, and she was… she was better off than many of us in that respect."

He saw the girl nod. "I'm glad to hear it."

Neither of them spoke again.

Amanda the mediwitch changed the bandage on his neck wound, making a sound at the sight of the snake bites, still appearing so red and irritated. The skin could not pull over them well. Rebecca closed her eyes, slumping back in the chair. She should have rubbed some of the antidote onto the wounds.

"I'll do my best to help them in healing," Amanda said, heading back to the cabinet with the common-usage items she'd need. "But venom is a tricky thing."

Rebecca opened her eyes to watch Amanda to work. She cleaned the area around the wound with a salve, her movements gentle. Once the area was clean, she put more dittany on the wounds, waiting for a minute before sighing.

"The skin is having a tough time re-forming over the wound," she said. "We'll just have to keep it bandaged and change it every few hours for the next day or so. But he will survive."

Everyone was shocked when the mediwitch's arm was grabbed by Severus' hand. Anthony was across the room and grabbing onto Snape's arm, forcing him to open his hand and let go of Amanda, who retrieved a Sleeping Draught quickly from the cabinet.

Severus' eyes scanned the room as he fought against the Auror with his diminished strength. He saw Rebecca, sitting up in her chair. He opened his mouth, but still could not speak. His throat was dry, sore. His eyes pierced hers, but she didn't look away from him.

With a wave of Amanda's wand, the draught disappeared from the vial and Severus' eyes began to close. Finally, he slumped in Anthony's grasp. The Auror laid him back on the bed. Amanda seemed a bit shaken, but still looked to Rebecca.

"He… doesn't want to be alive," she said, staring directly into the brown eyes of the mediwitch.

"You saved him against his will?" she asked.

"I owed him a Life Debt."

"But that's gone now."

"Yes. But he's saved my life every day for the last year."

"I didn't think loyalty was a Slytherin quality," Anthony said.

"And bravery isn't a Hufflepuff quality," Rebecca said, glancing at the Auror. "But Tonks defied that norm, didn't she?"

Anthony didn't respond. Amanda went back to work, wrapping up the wound with clean bandages. With another wave of her wand, she checked his throat.

"His neck is fine," she said, turning to look at Rebecca once more.

"The bite just missed his jugular," the mediwitch continued. "The wounds are too far back. It nicked a smaller vein, though just barely, which explains why there was so much blood. But the Replenishing potions and the bandages seemed to have kept him stable until he was brought in. We healed the vein, but his throat is still under a lot of stress because of the puncture marks. How long were the snake's fangs?"

"Nagini's," Rebecca said quietly. "Probably about three inches, maybe four."

"Then she had poor aim," said Amanda.

Rebecca didn't speak.

"In any case, he should regain his voice in the next couple of days," Amanda said. "I'll be back in a while."

The next two days passed slowly. Rebecca did not move from her chair unless she was permitted to eat, drink, or go to the lavatory. And even then, she did not leave the room for very long. Amanda stayed in the room while she was gone. Anthony escorted her to the lavatory entrance and waited for her to return, with the warning that if she took more than five minutes, he had no problem following after her.

On the second day, Head Auror Gawain Robards returned. He spoke to Amanda for a few minutes before turning to Anthony.

"He's been given a clean bill of health," he said to Anthony. "But Azkaban's mediwitch will need to change his bandages daily."

"We'll make sure of it," Anthony said with a nod, flourishing his wand. Severus had been giving the Sleeping Draught every few hours, so he would not try to attack anyone again, so he was still unconscious.

Gawain motioned for Rebecca to stand, which she did. "I'm going to have to escort you through the building."

She nodded. He placed his hand upon her upper arm and led her from the room as Anthony levitated Severus, bringing up the rear. They were flanked by more Aurors, five on each side. It seemed all of St. Mungo's watched them go by. Rebecca kept her eyes trained forward.

Finally, they reached the lobby and used the Floo network once more. When they exited out the other end, ash covering them from head to foot, Rebecca quickly took in her surroundings. The entry point for Azkaban was small, dark, and damp. It reminded her of the Slytherin common room in a strange way.

The Aurors were surrounding them as they came through the Floo. Rebecca didn't like the feeling, didn't like how they crowded her. Gawain turned her so he could speak directly to her.

"All of your belongings have been taken and are in a safe place," he said. "But you must change into the uniform of the prisoners."

Rebecca peered around him, noting that they were waking up Severus. He struggled for a moment before they explained to him where he was. He calmed until he looked over at her. His face went blank, and he turned to face his captors once more. Rebecca looked again to Gawain.

"You will need to change in front of an Auror, to make sure you are not hiding anything else upon your person," he said.

"I'm not changing in front of you," Rebecca said, her upper lip raising at the threat.

"We have female Aurors," he replied.

"I'm not changing in front of _anyone_."

Her green eyes flashed, but she did not move. Gawain felt her body tense, could almost see the fear rising up within her.

"It's either that, or you will be forced to comply," Gawain said. "Your choice, Felan. You're a prisoner, not a guest."

He watched as her anger slowly melted away, replaced with complete neutrality. Gawain's brows furrowed at the sudden change of demeanor. He'd never seen anyone else do that again.

"A female Auror, if it pleases the Head Auror," she answered quietly.

Gawain turned and motioned to Eliza, who approached them. He handed off Felan to Eliza, who silently took Rebecca to a room off to the side, shutting the door behind her. Three male Aurors took Snape to a separate room. All was quiet for a few moments.

Rebecca hid behind her Occlumency walls as the female Auror checked her body for any other hidden objects. The Auror didn't touch her at all, but she could see everything. All of the scars, all of her body. Her wand flashed as the detection spells and her eyes scanned over every inch of her skin. Rebecca trembled in the cold, also staving off the fear she felt.

"Put this on," the Auror said, tossing the uniform to Rebecca.

She watched them fall to the floor, finally covering herself from view. She turned her back to the female Auror and quickly put the uncomfortable garments on. The uniform was plain, a large long-sleeved, white pullover shirt and white pants with a drawstring. She turned back to the Auror, who led her back into the main room.

The three other Aurors led out Severus, and Rebecca looked over her shoulder at him. But he was not looking at her. He looked straight ahead, right through her. She felt her heart sinking as she looked forward once more.

They took them to the only remaining cells, on the third floor of Azkaban at the very end. They pushed Rebecca into hers and shut the barred door behind her. Severus was pushed into the one next to her.

Rebecca turned to look at her cell. Only a toilet, sink, and cot with a small pillow and blanket were offered. There was no window, and barely any light.

She sat on the bed and let her head rest against the stone wall.

* * *

_Azkaban, May 4 to May 12, 1998_

Rebecca sat alone, quiet, balled up on the cot in her cell. The first day waned. She was brought a meal by one of the attending Aurors, but Rebecca only nibbled upon it. She could feel her resolve breaking down slowly. She only took solace in the fact that the new Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had banished the dementors once and for all and had a select few Aurors running the prison until they could hire full-time wizards and witches to do so.

She did not move much that first day. It was difficult to keep her mind from wandering, so she practiced her first meditation exercises, the ones that had taught her how to clear her mind for Occlumency.

The sun was soon up, and Rebecca realized that she had not slept. The rest of the cells were eerily quiet. And it remained so throughout most of the day. The only noise that came was from the Aurors delivering their meals at lunch. After that, silence again.

A mediwitch passed in front of her cell, two Aurors following her closely. They entered Severus' cell beside hers, and Rebecca strained to hear them.

"I need to change the bandage on your neck," the mediwitch's soft voice said.

"Go away," Severus' voice croaked.

"Snape, we're required to keep you healthy," said one of the Aurors. "Cooperate or we'll use force."

There was silence. He must have moved somehow, because the next sound Rebecca could hear was a bit of struggling. It stopped, so the Aurors must have bound him. She heard the mediwitch removing the old bandage. After a few more minutes, they left.

Rebecca moved to the front of her cell and touched the bars tentatively. They didn't shock her or anything, so she pressed her face against them, trying to see into his cell. All she could see was the front corner, where he was not.

"I smell you," she suddenly heard from down the corridor.

That voice sent a chill up her spine. Rebecca looked the opposite direction, down the corridor full of cell fronts. Two cells down and across the hall, Greyback's face stared hungrily back at her.

He grinned when he saw watching him.

"I knew you were there," he said, pressing his face as far between the bars as he could. "I remember your smell. I won't ever forget it."

Rebecca glared at him. "Don't you ever give up?"

"Never, darling. I'll bite yeh yet."

She stared at him, feeling the fear creep up on her, trying to steal away her reason. He chuckled when she made no response, slowly beginning to stand to his full height, which his cell barely allowed.

"If yeh think I'd have done yeh one over before, just wait till yeh see what I do to traitors," he said.

Rebecca turned from him, retreated to the back of her cell. She sat in the corner and drew her legs up to her chest, hugging them to her and she listened to her breathing to calm herself. Greyback's laughter soon filled the corridor, and a couple of Aurors were soon coming to see what the sudden commotion was about.

Rebecca didn't sleep again that night, watching the front of her cell.

A few days passed with no visitors. They began to bleed together when Harry finally came. He appeared before her cell around mid-day without an Auror escort.

"Becca?"

She looked up, unsure if her brain was playing tricks on her. But it was Harry, standing in front of her cell. She scrambled to stand, forcing herself to move forward and reach through the bars to clasp his hands.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," she whispered.

Harry looked at her sadly. "Same here, Becca. I tried to get others in, but they only permitted me to come in."

"It's all right," Rebecca replied, nodding.

Harry glanced into the cell next to her. "Good afternoon, Professor Snape."

There was no response.

"He's not talking these days," Rebecca said. "He's protesting being alive, I think."

They looked at each other for a long moment. Harry was unsure what to say.

"We're gonna get you out of here, Becca," Harry said quietly. "Don't you worry."

Rebecca paused, unable to respond. "How is everyone?"

"The Weasleys are still trying to come to grips with everything," Harry said. "And George..."

"I wish I could be there now that they need me the most." She frowned. "But my trial isn't for… actually, I'm not sure what today is."

"It's May eighth," Harry said. "And I'm sorry I couldn't get here before. They wouldn't give me clearance until they were all done shaking my hand. I've been helping Kingsley and some other Aurors hunt down the Death Eaters that got away."

"I'm just sorry that you have to see me like this," Rebecca said. "I haven't showered in four days. Disgusting."

Harry laughed. "We didn't shower for a lot longer this past year. Trust me, I don't mind. It's not like it's your fault, either."

There was a lull in the conversation.

"Kingsley's Minister," Harry said quietly. "I took your advice and started raising hell about having someone I trusted in Scrimgeour's open seat. As soon as I mentioned Kingsley's name, everyone started voting for him."

Rebecca nodded. "I heard something of the like. I told you, Harry, you have power now. You just need to know how to utilize it."

"He wants you out of here about as much as I do."

"I suppose that's good to hear," Rebecca said. "When's my trial?"

"May twelfth," Harry said. "Eight in the morning."

"Well, I have little choice in being there," Rebecca said with a half-hearted smirk. That smirk soon faded. "How's Remus?"

Harry frowned. "Not handling it well."

"I can only imagine. If only the Malfoys had gotten there sooner, maybe they could have saved Tonks…"

"It was a Killing Curse, Becca, no one could have done anything," Harry said. "He's really quiet. When I was leaving the Burrow, he said he'd come to visit you if he could get clearance."

"He doesn't have to," Rebecca said. "I'm not sure the atmosphere would do him any good."

"I think he won't care. He seemed pretty set on it."

Rebecca nodded. "Maybe he'll talk."

"Maybe."

"Tell the others hello for me," Rebecca said. "And be sure to send my love."

"I'll do that, Becca, don't worry."

Rebecca held onto his hand tighter, needing to tell him of their relation to one another. She was free to tell him, now that Voldemort was dead. He needed to know that he wasn't alone. And she needed him to understand… She needed to feel not so alone herself. She tugged him closer.

"I have something I need to tell you," Rebecca whispered, her voice barely carrying to his ear. "But you can't freak out, not here."

"What is it, Becca?" he asked urgently, his voice also quiet. He turned his ear toward her.

"Severus interviewed my mum right after the summer started," she began. "That's why I came to the Burrow so quickly—he sent the anonymous message to Alastor. Well, my mum admitted, as you know, that my grandmother was a witch—is still possibly a witch, if she's alive, but no one knows where she is. She's Isla Hitchens, decedent of the Isla Black from so long ago. What he left out was for our benefit, though, Harry. My grandfather, the man who married Isla Hitchens, was named Theodore Evans."

She waited. Harry turned his head slowly to meet her gaze.

"Evans?" Harry said quietly.

Rebecca nodded. "Your mum's uncle," she said. "He and his sister, your mum's mum, were twins, and Lily looked like her mum."

"You look like your grandfather," Harry finished. "That's why you look so much like my mum."

"Harry, we're related," Rebecca whispered, feeling an elation that she hadn't felt since the Battle at Hogwarts take over her.

A smile crept across his face. "Won't the Dursleys be happy to see another witch they're related to?"

Rebecca chuckled, though she wasn't sure how it sounded. "I just wanted you to know," she said quietly. "I'll have to mention it in a trial at some point, I'm sure."

"Thanks, really," Harry said. He held her hand a lot tighter now. "I always knew you were supposed to be one of my best friends for a reason."

"We'll always be best friends now, whether you like it or not." Her smile faltered for a second, noting that his hands were getting colder. "You should get going. People will start to wonder if you're conspiring with me."

He gave her a look. "The list of witnesses for your trial have already been published. It's quite long."

Rebecca was quiet. "When is Severus'?"

"They day after yours," Harry said. "I'm still working on compiling a good list of witnesses to defend him. But I'm not having to work too hard, not after my speech when Voldemort died. And not after how he reacted to you when you said you saved him. It's won a lot of people over."

"Good."

There was a silence between them.

"Go on, I'll be fine," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the exit. "I've… dealt with worse than this." She attempted a smile, but couldn't form it entirely.

"Becca..." Harry shook his head. "We'll get you out. It'll be all right."

He pulled his hand slowly from her grasp, and Rebecca felt the warmth leave her. But Harry had not left yet. He was standing in front of her cell.

"I love you, Becca," he said.

"I love you, too, Harry," Rebecca said.

"I'm gonna to make sure _all_ my friends know that," Harry said, nodding slowly. "This war, my mum, Dumbledore… they've all taught me how important love is. Without it, we'd all be like _him_, you know?"

Rebecca nodded. "Go on, Harry. You'll see me at the trial."

"Bye, Rebecca."

"Bye, Harry."

She watched him disappear down the corridor. He looked back at her before rounding the last corner and disappearing from her sight.

Rebecca retreated once more to the back of her cell, sitting in the corner again. It was here she felt the safest. Four more days, and then she would have some reprieve of the walls of Azkaban. She meditated some more, trying to clear her mind so that her thoughts would not bring her mood down anymore.

Remus did come to visit her a couple of days later. He attempted to greet Severus, but the man was still silent as he had been when Harry came. Remus approached the bars and shook Rebecca's hand and held it, feeling how cold she was.

"Give me the other one," he said.

She did, and felt the warmth flood through her, then. Rebecca looked him over. He wasn't sleeping, that much she could tell.

"Remus, I'm so sorry…."

He shook his head and looked down for a moment, as if trying to collect himself. "How are you?"

Rebecca didn't answer for a while, trying to formulate the appropriate words in her head.

"I… don't know," she said. "Even without the dementors, this place… it does something to you."

Remus nodded. "Don't lose your head, Becca," he said.

"I'm trying my hardest, Remus. Really."

He sighed, looking her over once more.

"How did you get clearance to visit?" Rebecca asked.

"I'm working with the Ministry," he said. "With Kingsley as Minister, suddenly the laws against werewolves have disappeared. I've got a position in the Regulation of Magical Creatures. Werewolf liaison."

"Congratulations," Rebecca said.

He nodded. "It has its perks."

He looked down to the ground again. "Andromeda, Teddy, and I are living with the Weasleys," he said. "Her house was destroyed by some Death Eaters a few days ago. And they need the support as much as…"

"I understand," Rebecca said.

Remus took in a deep breath. "I saw that Greyback is down the hall. Does he bother you?"

"Yes. I just sit in the back so I can't see him. The Aurors usually keep him quiet."

"Are you sleeping?"

"Not any more than usual."

"Well, Ron told me to bring these for you to cheer you up," Remus said, reaching into his robes. He pulled out a large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "Since he couldn't come himself. He's been helping out George with the joke shop, though I suspect he'll become an Auror at some point in the near future, too."

Rebecca's face brightened for a moment. "Oh, Ron," she said, sighing. "Always the one to think of food."

Remus smiled, his looking almost happy, though it was missing something. But Rebecca understood he was trying. She accepted the beans, then turned and put them back on her cot, hiding them under the blanket should a guard try and take them from her. She turned back to Remus.

"How's little Teddy?"

"He's wonderful," Remus said, smiling fondly. This smile was not lacking anything. "Andromeda and Molly are taking care of him for now."

Rebecca nodded. "I met Anthony. I don't know if that's his first or last name. He seemed all right."

"He was a good friend to Dora," Remus said, looking down once more. "He was one of the ones to, um, ask Kingsley to grant a reward to those Aurors who gave their lives for the Ministry. I'll be accepting an Order of Merlin, Second Class, for her at the ceremony they are planning for June." He bit his lower lip, hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling of the prison.

Rebecca felt the first wave of sadness hit her since entering Azkaban. "I'm so sorry, Remus," she whispered.

"I just wish Teddy could know her," he said, looking at Rebecca now. "He deserves to know how brave his mum was, even at the end."

She saw the unshed tears in his eyes.

"He'll know," Rebecca said. "None of us will let him forget. You'll help him know her through you. He'll love her just as we did. He'll respect what she gave in order to make the world a safer place for him. He'll know everything about her." She smiled.

Remus nodded. "He will know her. He'll love her. She's still his mum, even if she can't be here to show it." He paused. "I'm sorry, Becca. I meant to come here and comfort you, not have it turn the other way around."

Rebecca ignored his apology. "You should talk to the others. They're worried."

"Just as it took you time to tell your story, so it will take me some time to tell my own."

"Talk sooner than I did," Rebecca said, desperation in her voice. "I regret not doing it before, when I should have."

"Now you're the one giving teacherly advice."

"Well, sometimes people need an outsider's perspective."

"I'll talk when I'm ready."

"I know."

Remus reached through the bars and Rebecca moved closer and took the offered hand.

"I need to get going," he said. "I have to get back to work."

"Sorry," Rebecca said. "Send my love to everyone again."

He nodded, his thumb brushing over her fingers. "Goodbye, Rebecca. We'll get you out of here soon."

She nodded.

He dropped her hand and made his way from her. Remus suddenly stopped in front of Greyback's cell and watched the man for a long time before continuing on his way out.

* * *

_The Trial of Rebecca Felan, May 12, 1998_

Two Hit Wizards brought Rebecca toward the chair in the center of the room. They forced her down and strapped her in with leather bindings, both her arms and her legs. She could not move any of her limbs more than a centimeter. She looked about the room, seeing that there were many spectators. Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys, and Remus all watched her hopefully, giving her smiles and thumbs-up. Hogwarts professors were lined up near them. Nearly all of the people there were going to witness for her.

"First witness," said the Speaker of the Wizengamot, Oliver Swift, "is Professor Minerva McGonagall."

The Transfiguration professor stepped up to the podium.

"State your relationship with the defendant Miss Rebecca Felan."

"Rebecca was a student of mine as well as a fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"What was Miss Felan's standing in the Order?"

"She was a spy at Hogwarts for Albus Dumbledore, head of the Order, and soon she became a double-agent for the side of the Light in her seventh year."

"So you're saying that Miss Felan, though she possesses a Dark Mark and was seen by numerous witches and wizards in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's presence, was a spy."

"That is correct, Speaker Swift. Rebecca Felan would never turn her back on her friend Harry Potter or Hogwarts, for that matter."

"And how certain of this are you, Professor McGonagall?"

Minerva's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. "I have known this child since she was eleven," she said, pointing to Rebecca, who began to smile. They had angered McGonagall, and that was never a good thing to do. "I went to her muggle home and saw what conditions she came from, saw her with Potter and the others. Once you were her friend, Miss Felan would never drop you, no matter what. She came into the Order to protect those that she loved from the Dark forces. She would never change sides. She loves Potter too much. She loves Albus too much. She loves all of us too much. Rebecca Felan is _not_ a Death Eater, nor would she _ever_ be."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall, you may step down," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, sitting atop his raised platform reserved for the Minister.

"Professor Filius Flitwick!" called the Speaker.

"Miss Felan was always a good student," said Flitwick, standing in the chair so people could see him over the banister. "What is more, she was attacked by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in her fifth year working for the Order. I helped her with the charm that covered her scars before she was forced to wear them openly."

Rebecca nodded to him, showing her thanks.

"Miss Felan would not turn to him— never," Flitwick continued. "Not after what he subjected her to. Albus told Pomona Sprout and myself, we who were not Order members but Heads of Houses, what Miss Felan was doing for the Order, her friends, and wizarding kind alike. She would not turn her back on that. Never."

"Professor Pomona Sprout!" the Speaker said.

"Miss Felan is a wonderful person. She is not a Death Eater. She is an Order spy for the side of the Light!" the small, portly woman banged her fist on the arm of her chair for emphasis.

"Remus Lupin!"

"Rebecca was the only student in her third year to confront me about my 'differentness'," Remus said, putting air quotes around the final word. "She knows what it's like to be different. She came into Slytherin House as a muggleborn. She was cast out by her peers, tortured by them multiple times. She turned to the Gryffindors, who were the only ones to accept her, really. Do you honestly believe she would turn back to those who tormented her, who also literally tortured her? I don't. The Rebecca Felan I see before me is the same one that I met all those years ago, when she was thirteen." He stared long and hard at her, and she met his gaze the entire time. "She is no Death Eater."

"Neville Longbottom!"

"Rebecca told me just this past year, when all those rumors about her and Snape were going round, that she was still spying for the Order," Neville said. "This was after she got her Mark, too. Rebecca wouldn't lie to me, let alone any of her friends. She helped us survive the Carrows! She helped me set up the Room of Requirement so all of us could go there, to be safe from the real Death Eaters."

"Luna Lovegood!"

"Rebecca brought Mr. Ollivander and myself food while we were being held captive in Malfoy Manor," Luna said airily. "She smuggled it in, and clean water, too. If any of them had caught her, I don't know what would have been done to her."

"Garrick Ollivander!"

"Miss Felan has a wand with a dragon heartstring as its core," Ollivander said. He still looked frail from his torture and entrapment. "And her wand is made of Alder wood. Both of those combined show that the person who the wand chose is resilient, has great strength, and is intellectually advanced."

"The point, Mr. Ollivander?" Speaker Swift asked.

"The point, Speaker Swift, is that Miss Felan showed her strength of character when she began bringing food to me at the risk of her own safety. She showed her resilience at doing what the Dark Lord told her to do, but still maintaining her core values. And she shows her intellectual prowess at having fooled the Darkest and one of the most powerful wizards of our time into believing she belonged to him when she was still an ally to Dumbledore and the side of the Light."

"Ron Weasley!"

"Rebecca's been one of my best friends since we got on the train to go to Hogwarts our first year. She wouldn't betray any of us. She's like another sister to me! She helped me get back to Harry and Hermione after I left them, when we were on the run. She's always been helping us. She even helped us escape Malfoy Manor when we'd been captured. She saved my life by pretending not to recognize me. She protected Harry, Dean, Griphook, and Hermione that day, too."

"Molly Weasley!"

"If you think that girl would hurt anyone of her own background, it's _you_ who should be put on trial!"

"Arthur Weasley!"

"Rebecca's been through too much with my family for me to be able to say that she has hatred for anyone… unless, of course, you're the Dark Lord."

"Hermione Granger!"

"Rebecca is one of the most intelligent people I know. She is completely logical and a very talented witch. I've helped Harry and Ron out of a few scraps, and she's done the same thing for all of us. She saved us from Malfoy Manor this past year, well after she had received her Mark, and helped us to escape. She put herself in danger by doing that. Not many people would be so selfless."

Rebecca saw tears coming to Hermione's eyes, something she hadn't seen in a very long time. Her heart went out to her friend.

"She kept me from being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange," Hermione continued, sniffling. "She kept me from the fate that befell her while she was working for the Order. If she were a Death Eater, why would she have risked her own life to help us? She wouldn't have."

"Harry Potter," said the Speaker, his eyes traveling to meet the boy's from across the room.

Harry stood and walked quickly to the raised platform that was the witness stand.

"State your relationship to the defendant Rebecca Felan," said the Speaker.

"Rebecca's one of my best friends," Harry said. "Just like Ron said, we met on the train to Hogwarts our first year. She's always been there for me."

"What do you know of Miss Felan's relationship to the Order of the Phoenix?"

"She was an Order spy," Harry said. "She had been since the summer before our fifth year, but she told us in November of our fifth year, when Dumbledore said it was okay."

"Was she still working for the Order this past year, even though Albus Dumbledore was dead?"

"Of course," Harry said, looking at the man like he was crazy. "She kept up her appearances with Voldemort, but would always warn us when she would make a move in that regard. She helped us break into the Ministry this last year, helped us escape it, even helped us plan breaking into Gringott's. Like Hermione said, she helped us escape from Malfoy Manor when we were being held captive."

"Miss Felan bears the Mark of the Dark Lord," Speaker Swift said, narrowing his eyes. "What say you about this, Mr. Potter?"

"She had to accept the Mark if she wanted to be in the Inner Circle," Harry said. "She had to be a part of them in order to take them down from the inside out. She started with Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Why with this particular Death Eater?"

"She was the most threat to her," Harry said. "She suspected Rebecca and was jealous of her."

"Jealous how?"

"Because Rebecca took away Voldemort's attention from Bellatrix. She couldn't stand that. With Rebecca's help, the Inner Circle no longer functioned as well as it did before, because there was so much contempt floating around with Rebecca there. She helped with the downfall of Voldemort. That should count for something in her favor. She shouldn't be charged with anything. She should be rewarded for being courageous enough to do what most of us would cringe at!"

"Enough, Harry," said Kingsley, holding out his hand to the boy. "You may step down."

The Speaker turned to Rebecca as soon as Harry was safely back in the audience.

"Rebecca Felan, you are charged with treason against your Ministry for bearing the Dark Mark, the symbol of the Dark Lord. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," Rebecca said, wondering why this hadn't been asked earlier.

"You maintain that you were a spy for the Order of the Phoenix and later a double-agent for the side of the Light?"

"I believe my friends and professors have already pummeled those indictments into the ground, Speaker Swift," Rebecca said pleasantly. The trial had lifted her spirits. "But the short answer to your question is: yes. I was an Order spy and a double-agent for the Light the entirety of my time with Tom Riddle."

"Those who served time with the Dark Lord usually call him as such," said the Speaker, a bit perplexed, though he tried not to show it. "Why do you not?"

"Albus once said that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," Rebecca said easily. "I call Voldemort Tom Riddle because that is his given name. He created the name of Lord Voldemort for himself even though he truly had no right to call himself a Lord. And certainly he was nothing to be feared, most especially now."

"Are you saying you did not fear the Dark Lord?"

"Not openly, of course," Rebecca said. "I feared his magic. Tom Riddle himself was nothing to be afraid of. Albus firmly believed that, and so do I."

"A few more questions, Miss Felan," Speaker Swift said, looking down his long nose at the girl. "Professor Charity Burbage disappeared last year. Some of the other Death Eaters in our custody claim that the Dark Lord was holding her captive. They say that you murdered her, Miss Felan."

Rebecca hung her head, feeling the rising hope within her dashed out. She collected herself and looked up, trying to slip on a brave face.

"I killed Professor Burbage at the order of Tom Riddle," she said. "I tortured Mr. Ollivander and my friend Luna at his bidding as well. I was forced to use the Cruciatus Curse innumerable times upon my classmates by Amycus Carrow. I Obliviated the memory of Professor McGonagall against her will and without her knowing this year, when she made it known that she knew I was still fighting and spying for the Order." She looked up meekly into the crowd and sought out the witch. "I'm sorry, professor."

McGonagall waved a hand in dismissal.

"All of these things I did to protect myself and others from more harm," she said. "I didn't want to kill Professor Burbage. But if I didn't, I would have died. She still would have died, but at another wand other than mine. You have to trust that I did what I had to in order to keep my position under wrap while eliminating as much unnecessary death or harm as I could. Even outside of Azkaban, I will have to live with the knowledge of what I've done every day of my life."

Speaker Swift paused a moment before stepping forward once more. "Was it you who Stunned and bound Fenrir Greyback at the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Yes," she said. "Ron and Neville were fighting him. I told them to move and I overpowered him quickly and took away his wand and left him bound for the Aurors. I gave his wand to Head Auror Robards."

"And it has also been reported by witnesses at the Battle of Hogwarts that you threw a dagger at the chest of Bellatrix Lestrange just before Molly Weasley's Killing Curse hit her?"

"Yes. It hit her just below the heart."

"What made you throw the dagger at Lestrange?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if this was a question of his own curiosity instead of pure motive.

"Because I was told she killed Fred Weasley," Rebecca said.

Speaker Swift looked at her a moment.

"Have you anything to say on your behalf, Miss Felan?"

"I am happy with the light my friends have put me in, Speaker," said Rebecca. "I could not have done a better job myself."

"The Wizengamot will now be dismissed in order to make their calling," said the Speaker, glaring at Rebecca.

The crowd erupted in talk as the Wizengamot members left the courtroom. Cameras flashed down at Rebecca, still strapped into the chair. She was just glad she hadn't begun to panic, despite the fact that her scars and the Mark shone clearly in the light of the courtroom. And, she thought, at least they had allowed her a shower and some clean robes before appearing in court. A sight she would have been after ten days without showering. Lovely.

A few more minutes passed and the Wizengamot reconvened slowly. The room went dead silent. Kingsley Shacklebolt turned to Speaker Swift.

"Do you have a decision for the defendant?"

"Yes, Minister."

"Please proceed."

"The Wizengamot finds the defendant, Rebecca Felan, not guilty of any of the charges brought before this court," said the Speaker, looking as though he didn't want to say the words. "She may be released from her bindings and given back her wand and other belongings immediately."

The crowd cheered as the Hit Wizards approached her, undoing the straps upon her limbs. Once all of them were removed, Rebecca stood and turned to her friends, who were standing, clapping, and cheering the loudest of the crowd.

She ran to them before Kingsley could even present her back her wand. Harry was the first she found, and she hugged him. Everyone else—the Weasleys, Hermione, Remus—crowded around and waited for their turn. Finally, Kingsley descended from his platform and approached the group.

"Rebecca!" he had to shout into the crowd. He held out her wand, and she took it gratefully, grinning at him.

Kingsley offered her his hand, and she gladly took it, giving him a strong handshake. "I'd like to offer you an Order of Merlin, First Class, for your efforts in the war."

"What!" Rebecca said, her jaw nearly dropping in disbelief. "Minister, I—I can't accept that—I—"

"I won't take no for an answer, Rebecca," Kingsley said. "I know what you went through in order to help the wizarding world. You deserve this."

"Th—thank you."

"It's I who should be thanking you," he said, letting go of her hand. "Thank you, Rebecca."

She was too stunned to reply.

* * *

_The Trial of Severus Snape, May 13, 1998_

"We now call Rebecca Felan to the witness stand," said Speaker Swift.

None of them had introduced themselves when Rebecca had been on trial, and it didn't look like they would now, either. She only knew Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was seated in the center on a raised platform. He offered her an encouraging smile.

Rebecca stepped up from the crowd, making her way across the floor. She had to pass Severus Snape, the man who she would be defending with all of her might this day, the man who wished to be dead and had not spoken to her since the Battle of Hogwarts. Already he had been in Azkaban too long, and she would not have him be sent back there.

Two Hit Wizards were on the floor with him, though he was strapped to the chair and had no wand. He was still dangerous, as they had not Silenced him. He would have to speak in his defense at some point, just like Rebecca had to. She looked long at him as she walked past him. He did not meet her gaze, staring forward resolutely.

Rebecca made it to the podium where all of her friends had sat before her, defending her in her trial just a few days ago. She sat in the uncomfortably hard chair, knowing this was going to take a while.

"State your name," said the Speaker.

"Rebecca Michele Felan."

"Miss Felan, would you please describe your relationship to the defendant Severus Snape," he said.

"Professor Snape was my Potions Master, Defense Against the Darks Arts instructor, Headmaster, and my mentor," she said easily, hands in her lap.

"Explain what you mean by 'mentor'," said Speaker Swift.

"When I was accepted into the Order of the Phoenix in the summer before my fifth year, as the Wizengamot will remember from my trial just yesterday, Albus Dumbledore assigned Professor Snape as my mentor."

"What was he assigned to do?"

"To teach me how to become a spy," Rebecca said. "He taught me all the names of the Death Eaters, many defensive spells, Occlumency, Legilimency, nonverbal and wandless spells."

"State the time period over which he taught you these skills," the Speaker said with a sneer.

"The spying skills came first, ranging from the summer before my fifth year throughout that term," Rebecca said, glancing side-long at the Speaker. He did clearly not approve of the Dark Arts. "I was also taught Occlumency during this time. I attempted nonverbal and wandless magic also in my fifth year, but did not manage to fully grasp it until the next term, my sixth year, which was also when I learned Legilimency."

"How great was your knowledge of what was occurring in the Order of the Phoenix vigilante group?"

"Albus told me everything," Rebecca said.

The Speaker narrowed his eyes at her. "Everything?"

"Yes, sir, everything. Albus treated me as though I were an adult."

There was a pregnant pause in the room, and lots of uncomfortable shuffling. Rebecca looked into the crowd and saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione all huddled together. Ginny was with them as well, hanging onto Harry's arm. The Weasleys were there, as were all of her professors. Remus sat by himself in the crowd, but close to Harry and the others. The rest of the crowd were either spectators or members of the press.

"Explain to us what occurred in June of 1997 atop the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts," the Speaker said suddenly.

"Professor Snape killed Albus Dumbledore out of mercy," Rebecca said, watching for any reaction from her mentor. He didn't even blink.

"Mercy," the Speaker said.

"Yes, a mercy killing," Rebecca said.

"How do you know?"

"Albus told me of the plan for Professor Snape to kill him."

"We will need memory evidence of this," the Speaker said, beginning to beckon for a Pensieve.

"With all due respect, sir, I am skilled in Legilimency and Occlumency," Rebecca said politely. "The same reason you did not provide me with Veritaserum is the same reason you cannot trust what you see in the Pensieve if it came from my memory. I could have tampered with it."

"Are you admitting guilt in that regard?" the Speaker said.

"Miss Felan has already been acquitted of her charges, Speaker Swift, do not make this about her," Kingsley said from atop his platform. "She was merely reminding us that a Pensieve would not be a good idea in this regard, and I can't help but agree with her. Move along, please."

The Speaker nodded to his Minister before turning back to Rebecca. "Impart to us what Albus Dumbledore told you that night."

"He had been cursed by one of Tom's Horcruxes," Rebecca said. "He was dying, despite the fact that Professor Snape had already sequestered the curse to Albus' right arm. Albus informed me then that Draco Malfoy was assigned a task by Tom: to kill Albus. Draco was given this task knowing that he would fail it; it was a task given in anger by Tom to Draco for Lucius' failing in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries."

"Move along, Miss Felan, the Malfoys' trials are next week, which you are also a witness in," Speaker Swift drawled.

"My apologies," Rebecca said with a nod of her head. "Albus then told me that he had ordered Professor Snape to kill him if Draco was unable to go through with his task. Professor Snape had no choice, as he had orders from two different sides to complete this task."

"He was ordered by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to kill Albus Dumbledore?"

"No, Speaker Swift, that is not what I meant to imply," Rebecca said quickly, but evenly. "Professor Snape made an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy, saying he would complete Draco's task if Draco was unable to do so. He was sworn to protect Draco and help him at all costs. When Albus ordered Professor Snape to kill him, he was left with little choice."

"Earlier, Mr. Potter said that Albus Dumbledore's last words were: 'Severus, please.' What do you make of those, Miss Felan?"

Rebecca bit her bottom lip, remembering that night suddenly very vividly. She felt the tears pressing against her eyes, but she held them back.

"Albus was asking Professor Snape to show him mercy," Rebecca said. "The way he said it was a giveaway. Albus was so tired, and the curse was slowly beginning to take its effect on him. He would have lost his mind had he been allowed to live."

"So, in your opinion, you would claim Severus Snape is…?"

"Innocent," Rebecca said instantly. Finally, she saw her mentor move. He was looking up at her, as if trying to will her to stop talking.

"Actually, if I may amend that," Rebecca said, tearing her eyes from her mentor's. "It is clear Professor Snape killed Albus Dumbledore, but it was not out of any ill-will towards Albus. He is guilty of murder, because that is what occurred, but innocent of the want to commit it, because it is more than clear that he did not."

The Speaker looked at her for a long time, as if sizing her up. "Tell the court about your _relationship_ with Severus Snape."

"I'm not sure I understand your question, _sir_," Rebecca said, furrowing her brows. She understood it fully, but perhaps if she made it sound ludicrous enough, they would drop it.

"What I mean to say is: how did you act around one another, in particular, this past year?"

"I don't see how we acted together while spying on Tom for the side of the Light has much to do with whether or not he is innocent."

"Miss Felan, please answer the question," Kingsley said pleadingly.

"I'm sorry, Minister," she said. "Professor Snape and I always had a very professional relationship with one another. It was always very clear that he was the authority and I was to listen to him, whatever it was we were doing. This past year we had to break that rule in order for myself to become a part of the Inner Circle."

She hated putting it like that, but there was no other way to say it.

"And what did you have to do, then?"

"I must explain a few things first in order for this to make sense," Rebecca said by way of introduction. "Tom was impressed by my spirit when he first encountered me in my fifth year. I convinced him I was not a spy then. That is how I received five Dark Marks carved into my skin by Bellatrix Lestrange and why Tom was so interested in me to begin with. Then, Professor Snape spoke with my mother and Obliviated her in order to protect her. He discovered that I was a descendant of Isla Black, who married a muggle Bob Hitchens and was subsequently removed from the Black family tree. My grandmother on my mother's side is Isla Hitchens, though no one knows of her whereabouts. My grandfather, also on my mother's side, was a muggle by the name of Theodore Evans, uncle of Lily Evans Potter."

There was an audible gasp about the room. Kingsley called the room to order.

"Please continue, Miss Felan," he said.

"You can see why Professor Snape then Obliviated my mother and sent an anonymous note to Alastor Moody, who was also my mentor of sorts, in order to put my family in an Order safe house and have me taken to the Burrow, so I could be watched more closely," Rebecca said. "Professor Snape then presented my Black family side to Tom, who then told him to get me from the Order's clutches. Professor Snape informed me of what would happen the night the Order moved Harry Potter from his uncle and aunt's home on Privet Drive to an Order safe house. He then returned for me when Death Eaters attacked Bill and Fleur Weasley's wedding at the Burrow."

"What does this have to do with your relationship to Severus Snape?" asked the Speaker impatiently.

"You must understand that this is a complicated story, and I apologize if I seem to be rambling," Rebecca said, forcing herself not to glare at the man. "I'm summarizing as best as I can."

The Speaker backed down a bit, and Rebecca continued.

"Tom was intrigued by my power and my new devotion to my pureblooded family, the Malfoys," Rebecca said. "Because there were no more Blacks left by name, I was left in their charge, since Narcissa is a Black by birth. Eventually, Tom saw it as a brilliant plan to match Professor Snape and myself together, so that we might produce extremely powerful pureblooded children."

She could see her friends were uncomfortable with this notion, but she and Professor Snape remained passive.

"Because Tom expressed this plan to Professor Snape, as his right-hand man he had to act the part," Rebecca said. "Tom ordered Professor Snape to propose to me. He did. We had to act a certain way around one another in the company of the Death Eaters, particularly after I received my Mark."

"Would this have clouded Severus Snape's judgment at all, do you think?"

"I don't see why it would have," Rebecca said. "He wanted to protect me, that was for certain. We were trying to protect the wizarding world from the forces of Tom. I'm not certain what implying any impropriety, of which there was none, on either of our parts is supposed to convince the Wizengamot of, Speaker Swift."

"Miss Felan, _please_," Kingsley said, exasperated.

The Speaker now looked very ruffled. After pausing a few moments to compose himself, he again lifted his piece of parchment.

"In her earlier testimony," the Speaker began, "Madam Poppy Pomfrey stated that Severus Snape was the one who gave you the antidote for the Black knife you were harmed with, and then he stayed with you that night." He looked up to her. "This was in your fifth year, you said?"

"Yes, sir," Rebecca answered stiffly.

"I see," said the Speaker, looking again to his parchment. "And, in _his_ earlier testimony, Mr. Potter stated that Severus Snape was in love with his mother, Lily Evans, and that is the reason why he has fought for the side of the Light ever since." He allowed the hand with the parchment to fall to his side and looked up again at her. "Considering your striking likeness to Lily Evans, as well as your own knowledge of your being related to her, do you think this had an affect on Severus Snape while he was with you?"

"Certainly, but not sexually if that's what you're trying to get me to say," Rebecca said, unable to help herself. "No one told me anything of my likeness to Lily Evans until Sirius Black finally admitted to me what everyone else was too scared to say. This was the summer before my fifth year. He implied the same thing that you're implying, though I didn't understand it then. Now that I do understand it, I don't agree with him, and I do not agree with you, sir. Respectfully," she added, glancing up at Kingsley.

"Perhaps you might show us the memory of what occurred the night in question so that we may verify what took place," the Speaker said.

"We have already established that my memories cannot be trusted," Rebecca said.

"Yes, but the Minister seems to think that your memories _can_ be trusted," Speaker Swift said fiercely.

"I will not relent my memories of that night," Rebecca said, beginning to panic. "What occurred that night is between myself, Madam Pomfrey, Albus, and Professors Flitwick and Snape."

"As the Speaker of the Wizengamot, I command you to release your memory for viewing!"

"I will tell you what happened, but I will _not_ show you!"

"Miss Felan, show them the memory!" roared Severus from his chair.

Her eyes snapped to his and locked there.

"I can't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rebecca's friends were all very distressed for her, but could say nothing lest they be thrown from the courtroom.

"Are you trying to hide something from the court, Miss Felan?" Speaker Swift continued. "Something, perhaps, that happened between you and your Potions Master in your fifth year, when you were not yet of age and a student?"

"Professor Snape wouldn't do that," Rebecca said, shaking her head. "He never did anything remotely like that."

"They will never believe you unless you show them, Miss Felan," Severus continued, hands clenched into fists. She was becoming very anxious, and that would not do well for her.

"What's there is private. What you said to me that night was private," Rebecca said.

"I'm not worth protecting, you stupid girl!" Severus shouted. "You should have left me there to die when you had the chance. I always said you had too much Gryffindor in you."

"I must ask the defendant to silence himself unless he is speaking directly upon his own behalf," Kingsley said, shooting Severus a look.

Rebecca stared at her mentor, her arms crossed over her chest in a protective manner. She looked harshly at the Speaker.

"Do you really want to see what Tom did to a fifteen-year-old girl?" she asked. "Here."

She put her wand to her head and drew out the memory, all of it, from start to finish that night. A Pensieve was provided for her, and she placed it in the bowl. The Pensieve was placed into the middle of the room, and Speaker Swift projected the image and darkened the lights. In the light of her memory, Rebecca stared in front of her, watching Severus Snape, who stared back at her. She looked at him so she would not have to see the memory nor the reactions to it. They kept one another's gaze as the audience and the Wizengamot watched the memory replay.

She thought about another night, the night she had received her Dark Mark. They had to kiss, then. Rebecca had felt something that night, and she could not leave it alone, just as she seemed to be unable to break his gaze now, in the courtroom. Did his helping her through the viewing of the memory by keeping her gaze mean that he did care, even though he hadn't spoken to her in days? Did he forgive her?

Rebecca closed her eyes at Greyback's voice, plugged her ears at the sickening sound of skin being torn by blade. While her fifteen-year-old self began sobbing, the tension in the room was practically palpable. With a glance to the Wizengamot, she could see they were all stricken by what they were watching, but more so how Professor Snape was reacting to her, comforting her as best a professor could for his student. The rest of the memory played out in silence.

The lights were brought back up, and the Pensieve held out to her. Rebecca retrieved her memory, restored it to her mind. Everyone stared at her. Wand still to her temple, Rebecca sneered at the Speaker.

"Perhaps now you would enjoy viewing my memory of the night I received my Mark," she said, her voice shaking slightly in her anger. "Then you could analyze whether or not Professor Snape was appropriate then, in front of Tom Riddle and his followers."

"That will not be necessary, Miss Felan," Speaker Swift said numbly.

Rebecca lowered her wand, replacing it inside her robes.

"That will be all, Miss Felan," Kingsley said with a pitying look in her direction. "You may make your way from the stand."

Rebecca stood, keeping her head high. When she went to pass her mentor on her way back to her friends, she heard his voice: "You should have left me to die."

She turned to face him, stepping close enough to him that the Hit Wizards became nervous and shuffled toward them. Rebecca forced him to look at her, uncaring of who saw or heard them.

"I owed you a Life Debt a thousand times over," she said. "You were my mentor. You kept me sane. You kept me _alive_. Albus gave me one order time and again, and that was to make certain _you_ were safe and alive. After all that we lived through, you wished for me to leave you there and die because of a love that could never have been reciprocated? My magic would not allow me to. Moreover, I could never have lived with myself if I had watched you die and I had done nothing to help you. Hate me all you want, but I am at peace with myself for saving you, Severus Snape."

She turned from him, then, from his black eyes that glared up at her.

"Severus Snape, you are charged with treason against your Ministry for bearing the Dark Mark, the symbol of the Dark Lord. How do you plead?"

"I bear the Dark Mark," Severus said quietly, evenly, "for that I am guilty. I have been an Order spy for a very, very long time, as has been pointed out by the surprising number of people who have testified on my behalf. For being treasonous, I reply not guilty. However, I was still a Death Eater, and deserve so much more than two weeks in Azkaban for what I have done."

The Speaker blinked at the man that was before him: a broken man, a man who no longer wished to live. He was truly and irrevocably remorseful about what he had done.

"That is all I have to say," Severus said, looking away from the Wizengamot.

"The Wizengamot will now be dismissed in order to make their ruling," said the Speaker.

The Court reconvened after a much longer period of time, but the Speaker looked truly pleased with the outcome. Rebecca couldn't tell if this was good or not.

"Do you have a decision for the defendant?" asked Kingsley.

"Yes, Minister," said Speaker Swift.

"Please proceed."

"We find the defendant, Severus Snape, to be _not_ guilty of all charges. He may be released from his bindings and given back his wand and any personal belongings that were taken from him upon his arrest."

Severus Snape sat stock still in the chair, growing more rigid by the moment. The Hit Wizards unstrapped his bindings, and he stood on his own. Kingsley approached him and handed him back his wand.

"Severus, allow me to present you with an Order of Merlin, First Class, at the awards ceremony next week," he said after the other man had taken his wand.

"I deserve no such award for the things I have done," replied the solemn man, who was now obtaining his possessions back from the Head Guard of Azkaban.

"I must insist upon you accepting it."

"And what will you do, _Minister_, if I do not?" Severus asked, glaring at Kingsley. "Will you perhaps throw me back in Azkaban?"

"I will give you the award whether or not you are there to accept it," Kingsley replied. "I suggest you be there."

He walked away. Severus attained all of his belongings quickly. The Hit Wizards and Head Guard moved away, revealing Rebecca Felan standing, waiting for him. She approached him slowly, and he found he could not take in a breath.

Rebecca stopped just inches in front of him, staring into his eyes intently. Finally, she raised her arms toward her neck and undid the clasp to the necklace he had given her. She reached out and took his hand in hers. Severus kept his face impassive, but she felt so much warmer to his touch than he could ever remember another person feeling. Her green eyes did not leave his own.

"This is yours, Professor Snape," Rebecca said evenly. She placed the necklace into his hand and closed his fingers over it. She let him go unwillingly, though to anyone else it would have appeared as if she did not care.

She reached into her robes and pulled out the beautiful ring of white-gold. The emerald in the center of the ring caught the light. She held it out to him.

"And this is yours, too," Rebecca whispered.

Severus stared at the ring, his eyes moving slowly toward her face. Finally, he could breath. Her face was a mask, looking evenly ahead, just like his. Her green eyes quivered just slightly, giving her emotions away. His hand moved toward hers and plucked the ring from between her fingers.

Their eyes met again. He began to turn from her.

"I would like to explain myself," she said. "What I requested of you that night—"

"Spare me, Miss Felan," Severus said, head snapping back in her direction. The rest of his body followed. The whole room was filled with noise of people talking, but sections of it became quiet at the sudden raising of his voice.

"I have had enough of your coddling," he continued. "I do not need anything that you feel you owe me. I certainly have no need of your explanations for your actions."

"I—I still saved your life," she said quietly, looking suddenly much smaller before him. "I don't regret it."

But his anger bowled her over. All of the fury that he had been feeling since she kissed him, forcing the antidote down his throat in the process, could no longer be contained.

"And I can honestly say, Miss Felan, that this was the biggest mistake of your life," he said, teeth bared. "I told you time and again that I did not have any desire to live. The least you could have done to repay me for saving your life was by letting me die."

"You don't mean that," Rebecca whispered.

"I do, and I mean this as well," Severus said, taking a step forward. "I want no further contact with you, Miss Felan. The sight of you before me this very moment is sending me into a rage the likes of which you could only imagine."

He saw her bite her lower lip, a habit he thought she had broken. But she seemed to have something more to say, even though she looked about ready to turn tail and run at that moment.

"What I said to you that night—"

"That, most of all, I do not wish to hear again," Severus said, sneering. "Only a witless chit like you would claim what you have. To think that such a simple phrase would have power over me, to erase everything and make me fall to my knees before you. No, Miss Felan, you are so _utterly_ incorrect that it should pain you."

With that, he saw something within her break. She suddenly looked away from him, to the floor. Perhaps a quarter of the room watched them, but Severus did not care. She had caused him enough agony, enough suffering, and certainly did not leave him to his devices as had been his wish.

He pushed away the memory of that night, when he was lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. The way she had cried, how he had been relieved to feel her trying to save him. And that had angered him. He was frightened, terrified to die. And he felt comforted by her ministrations, had taken solace in her soft lips pressed against his quickly cooling lips…

Severus came back to the present, successfully pushing back the memory. No. It had been a moment of weakness, because he had lost so much blood. He wanted nothing to do with her. No more from Rebecca Felan, the student who had caused him nothing but trouble.

Finally, she spoke. Her words were so quiet, only he could hear them.

"Thank you, once again, for everything you've ever done for me," she said, her voice trembling. There was another long pause. Finally, she glanced up at him before turning away. "Goodbye, sir."

She turned away from him, heading back to the others, who were all waiting for her. He watched her walk away, wondering momentarily if he should say anything to call her back. But that was not the type of person he was. He did not comfort, and he certainly did not apologize. He didn't want her around him. He hated her.

Severus left the room. Rebecca had trouble keeping her mind clear as she approached her friends.

Hermione moved forward, but Rebecca shook her head. "No," she said. "I have other things to attend to."

Hermione took a step back, and Ron reached out and took her hand in his. Rebecca looked around, only seeing pitying looks mixed with outrage from everyone, especially the Weasleys.

"Mr. Weasley—"

"Arthur."

Rebecca cleared her throat. "I have to go find my family. Do you know what safe house they're in?"

* * *

_The Aftermath, May 13 to June 27, 1998_

Arthur came along with Rebecca to the safe house her family was in. She was unusually quiet, but it was not his place to press the issue. She had not looked as though she was in any danger of crying; she merely looked pensive.

Her parents and brothers had been ushered to a relative of Arthur's, his cousin Brandon and his wife Hannah. They answered the door and allowed them entrance. Rebecca's family was in the living room. Her mother stood and gasped before trying to make her way forward to hug Rebecca. Her father stopped Rose by grabbing her wrist.

"Roger hasn't been pleased for the entirety of the year," whispered Brandon in Arthur's ear. "We've mostly had to keep him on Calming Draughts to keep him from trying to leave. We stopped giving them to him yesterday when we heard Rebecca was found not guilty."

Arthur gave a quick nod of his head and watched what was happening before him. Rebecca stood before her family, watching her father intently.

"This is all your fault," Roger said, standing and pointing his index finger. "You're why our lives have dropped off this year. Why we've had to hide in this bloody place all year."

"I was trying to protect you," said Rebecca, her voice level, though small. "I was putting you in danger because of who I was, who I'm related to."

She glanced at her mother. "Rebecca, honey, I was going to tell you—"

"Quiet, Rose!" Roger shouted, glaring at his wife before turning back to Rebecca.

"You're free to go," Rebecca said. "The war is over. I'm sorry that I had to take your lives from you, but you're alive because you were here."

"I don't want to hear anything else," Roger snapped, taking a step toward Rebecca. He paused, waiting for her to react. But Rebecca simply stood still, watching him with impassive eyes.

"I don't want you anywhere near my family again," Roger continued. "We're getting our things and going home. If I see you anywhere near any of us or our home again, I'll call the police." He paused. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Felan, I understand," Rebecca said.

She turned to face Arthur.

"Becca!" her mother's voice called.

"Rebecca, Dad doesn't mean it," Nick said. There was the sound of him standing and trying to get to her, but being blocked by his father.

Rebecca didn't respond to any of them, hearing her father's muttered voice ordering them upstairs to gather their things.

She looked to Arthur's cousin and offered her hand. "Thank you for taking care of my family," she said, shaking his hand. "If there's anything I can ever do for you or your wife, please let Arthur know."

"You're most welcome, Miss Felan," Brandon said.

Rebecca dropped his hand and began walking for the front door. When she and Arthur were outside, she looked up at him.

"It appears that I'm in need of a place to stay once I'm done taking my N.E.W.T.s," she whispered.

"You don't even need to ask, Becca," Arthur said, holding out his hand.

But she looked very much frightened in that moment, so he put his hand down at his side instead of moving to comfort her.

"Come on, let's get you back to Hogwarts," Arthur said.

The next few weeks, Rebecca buried herself into studying when she was not testifying in different trials. The Malfoys were eventually freed, restored to their home. Their pride was shaken, and most of the wizarding world didn't quite trust them, but people at least considered them for their contributions to the Battle of Hogwarts. Narcissa and Draco, after all, had rescued Harry, and Lucius had saved Remus.

Having Draco in their shared dormitory and common room area helped Rebecca to focus a bit. His familiar ease with her made her feel somewhat less tense, though her mind still reeled when she was not directly doing anything.

Harry was made an Auror. Kingsley had given him, along with everyone from the past year, the option of returning next year and re-taking their respective years. But Harry and Ron had declined. Kingsley then took Harry directly into the Auror program and had him continually searching for the remaining Death Eaters. Ron told Kingsley that he needed to help George in the shop until things normalized, then he would take Kingsley up on his offer, which the Minister was glad to hear about. Hermione was going to return the next year, along with many others who had been in hiding that year. Until then, Hermione was traveling to find her parents and restore their memories after having Obliviated them to save them. Mrs. Weasley was going with her to offer help.

Rebecca told Kingsley she was going to take her N.E.W.T.s. She didn't want to return the next year, and she wasn't going to give up on them without at least trying. He respected her wishes and allowed her to go back to Hogwarts.

Severus Snape was nowhere to be found. Rebecca suspected that he was at his family home, staying out of sight. McGonagall took over as Headmistress, with Flitwick as her Deputy for now. But both were still reviewing for the tests for their respective classes. Needless to say, those classes felt a bit more stressful than others.

The remaining Slytherins didn't speak to her. Goyle no longer flanked Draco everywhere. So she and Draco stuck close to one another no matter where they were, for their own safety from their House.

The N.E.W.T. tests came and went. For each one, Rebecca felt exceedingly focused, as if her life depended upon each one. Each of the proctors for the practical portion of each test had looked at her warily before she began. But she inevitably impressed them, though she was quiet and only spoke when they asked her a direct question, or when she was performing a spell. Her entire Defense practical she performed silently. Others stopped to watch her move from one spell to the next gracefully. Then she cast her Patronus as her final spell. She recalled the moment of elation she had felt when saying those words to Severus, the simple phrase that she had finally allowed herself to admit.

The wolf shot from her wand tip, standing before her regally, shining brighter than he ever had before. Rebecca gave a tiny smile of fondness before letting her wand drop to her side. She turned to the proctor and gave a bow. He dismissed her, and Rebecca left the Great Hall.

Finally, the tests were over. She did not take the train back to the Platform. There was no need. She simply gathered all of her things into the bag Hermione had given her and left the wards of Hogwarts and Apparated. She and Draco had made plans for later that summer. Rebecca wasn't sure she wanted to return to Malfoy Manor again, so they mutually agreed on Diagon Alley.

Those at the Burrow welcomed her back readily. She participated half-heartedly in conversations and games before retiring early. She was set up in Percy's old room. But she was mostly left to her own devices, though they tried to get her to talk over the next few weeks.

"I don't want to talk about anything," Rebecca said each time. "I want to forget it all."

For the benefit of her friends, she did engage more in conversations and whatever gameplay they desired when they were home. But most of the day found Rebecca by herself while everyone else was at work. She and Ginny kept each other company on occasion. The other girl seemed to sense Rebecca had many more issues than she could begin to solve, so they mainly spoke of other things—anything beside the war, beside what had happened to her and others.

Hermione and Molly returned, having found her parents and restored their memories to them. At the moment, they needed some space to deal with everything that had happened. Hermione was upset by their rejection and wouldn't speak to anyone until Rebecca spoke with her. Hermione was back to her normal self by the next morning, and was already writing a letter of explanation to her parents and had sent it to them by that afternoon.

The next week saw them all at the award ceremony. Everyone who had participated in the war somehow was given an award. Those who had given their lives to the cause had family members present to accept their awards. Little Dennis Creevey and his parents accepted Colin's Order of Merlin, Third Class and Remus accepted Tonks'. Dumbledore received another Order of Merlin, First Class, which his brother Aberforth was there to accept. Aberforth also received an Order of Merlin, Third Class, for allowing all of those people to enter Hogwarts to help.

The Weasleys all gained Second Class medals, and Ron and Hermione each received their First Class medals. Then Kingsley paused.

"The next medals I wish to give out at once," he said.

Rebecca could immediately sense this was not going to end well.

"Both of these individuals have been severely misjudged because of their House. Albus Dumbledore believed in these two individuals, however, and trusted them both above all others with his deepest secrets. They worked tirelessly, even when all hope seemed lost. Both protected Harry Potter over the years, regardless of what befell them. Please help me in congratulating Severus Snape and Rebecca Felan, who will both receive Orders of Merlin, First Class."

The crowd began applauding. Rebecca stayed glued to her seat until Harry nudged her. Finally, she put on her brave face and stood, letting the crowd behold her. She kept her hair down and had not allowed anyone to touch her face with a spec of makeup. She indulged Molly in putting her in one of the dresses she now owned. The brown one that she had worn for Severus' birthday.

Slowly, she made her way to the podium, where Kingsley waited with the medals upon their silk straps. Severus was already there, letting Kingsley put the medal around his neck, though he looked annoyed. He wore his usual black robes, though his collar was much higher than she'd ever seen it. He stood mostly on his right leg, and limped when he turned to face the crowd at Kingsley's motioning.

His magically enhanced voice carried over the crowd.

"I do not deserve a medal for what I have done," he said evenly. "And I hope the Minister soon realizes the error of his way in bequeathing me with something of this magnitude and takes it from me."

Without waiting, he limped back across the stage, passing Rebecca without glancing at her. He began to make his way down the stairs when the crowd had begun to come to their senses. Kingsley turned to Rebecca, looking a bit perplexed at what had just happened. But he smiled when he placed the medal over her neck.

The crowd clapped again when she turned to face them. She tapped her throat with her wand before speaking. She looked at the crowd for a long time. Finally, everyone was silent. She could still see Severus making his way down the aisle, limping slightly.

She looked down at the medal hanging around her neck. She clutched it in her hand and pulled it off her head, then turned to Kingsley and handed it back to him.

"I don't deserve this," she said, her voice still magnified.

She tapped her throat with her wand again and turned from the Minister. The crowd was murmuring, moving about restlessly as she made her way down the stairs from the stage. She glanced up, and from down the aisle, she could see Severus staring at her from the entrance, his hand on the door. When he saw her looking, he gave her a scathing looking before turning and walking out.

Rebecca made her way back to her seat and took it once more, staring forward, intent upon not hearing anymore. Kingsley called up Harry next, and the crowd roared for him. Rebecca stood and applauded along with everyone else.

Her friend accepted his award graciously, making a nicely put together speech that was brief. Then, he asked Kingsley for Rebecca's award.

"My cousin is very humble," he said with a smile. "She's just overwhelmed by your kindness, Minister."

Kingsley handed Harry Rebecca's medal, and the crowd applauded once more as he made his way from the stage. He reached his seat, next to hers, Ron's, and Hermione's, Ginny sitting next to him. He put the medal in her lap.

"You deserve this," he whispered harshly. "You have earned this, putting your life on the line for others and helping where you could."

"I've earned this by killing and harming others," Rebecca said, her hand tight upon the medal as she tried to shove it back at him. "I've earned this by listening to an old man who thought he knew better than everyone else. Earned this for taking the Dark Mark."

Harry stared back at her, taking the medal and spreading the silk straps upon it. He pushed it over her head and grabbed her by the shoulder, forcing Rebecca to look at him.

"That was not your whole purpose, and you know it, Becca," he said. "You have done the wizarding world a service. Start acting like it. You have power, just like you told me."

Once Kingsley had made his closing speech, they all their way back to the Burrow. Rebecca put her medal deep within her bag, hoping to forget about it.

It had been two weeks since she took her N.E.W.T.s when Kingsley Shacklebolt called upon the Burrow just after dinner. He asked to speak to Rebecca. She stepped outside, where they could speak privately.

"I'm hopeful this won't turn out like the last time I was told a Minister wanted to speak to me," she said, trying to inflect her sentence with enough humor.

Kingsley chuckled even at her vague attempt at normalcy. "No, this is good news, Rebecca. I had your test scores graded first, so that you could know the results."

He handed her a sealed envelope. Rebecca looked at him for a moment.

"Why?" she asked.

"Curiosity," Kingsley said. "And I also wanted to give you the opportunity I've given everyone else again, should you decide you don't like the results."

Rebecca watched him, her face unreadable, though she seemed to stare directly into his thoughts.

"Somehow I think you already know the results," Rebecca said, taking the envelope from him.

She tore open the flap quickly, taking out the parchment inside and scanning down the page. She glanced back up at Kingsley.

"There's a mistake," she said, her grip tightening on the parchment. "All of these scores are too high."

Kingsley smiled pleasantly at her. "Those are the scores you earned, Rebecca," he said easily, motioning to the parchment. "I'll admit, I saw them just after having all of your tests graded and speaking to the proctors. But the N.E.W.T. officials compiled these—they're trustworthy."

"But I only received one Exceeds Expectations," Rebecca said, "in Astronomy. The rest are Outstandings, even History of Magic."

"The officials were impressed with you, Rebecca," Kingsley said.

"Is there something you want with me, Minister?" Rebecca asked, folding the parchment back up and replacing it in its envelope.

"I've come to offer you a job at the Ministry," Kingsley said. "Harry said that you've seem listless since your trial. I'm of the opinion that it's because you have nothing to do."

Rebecca didn't say anything.

"I suspect that you think I'm going to offer you a position as an Auror," Kingsley said, smiling again. "But I'm not. I have learned a bit about you over the years, Rebecca. I know that you don't like fighting, though you're more than proficient at dueling."

"So what job do you want to offer me, Minister?"

"I want you to come work for me as my personal assistant," he said. "You'll go with me wherever I go. You'll keep track of my meetings, of the people I'm meeting with, and you'll be my trusted advisor and my body guard, if you'd like."

Rebecca frowned. "You want me to spy for you. You want me to read the people you meet with, to tell you what to tell them to get to comply to your requests."

"Of course not, Rebecca," Kingsley said. "It's not spying. I simply see that you have a very good skill set for politics. I'd like to help you get into the Ministry, to get you started. I think that you could be Minister one day."

Rebecca scoffed. "Minister, with all due respect, I see right through you," she said. "My answer is no. And don't offer it to me again. I won't decline so nicely next time."

Kingsley called after her, but Rebecca entered the Burrow again and shut the door quickly behind her. She beckoned to Ron, Hermione, and Harry, who followed her upstairs. She showed them her test results and explained the situation.

"I think he had them faked," Rebecca said.

"Becca," Hermione said, "it's the official seal at the bottom."

"And Kingsley is Minister," Rebecca said. "He can do whatever he wants. In any case, I'm not spying for anyone again. Ever."

"We don't blame you for not taking the job, Becca," said Ron. "You could come work with me and George at the joke shop. We could use the extra hands."

Rebecca shook her head. "I'm looking into apprenticeships," she said. "I want to be a Potions Mistress."

"Not surprising," Harry said with a smirk. "Good luck. But the Aurors would be glad to have you, just to let you know."

"I'm sure they would," Rebecca said flatly.

The next morning, when everyone was at work, only Molly, Ginny, Hermione, and Rebecca remained at the Burrow. Rebecca was reading when a knock sounded at the back door. Molly answered and let whoever it was in. Rebecca looked up when she saw Head Auror Gawain Robards enter. She put her book down and placed her feet on the ground.

"Miss Felan, I need to speak with you," he said. "I have a proposition for you, and I'm hoping I don't come off presumptuous."

He seemed a bit nervous, and Rebecca wondered if it was she that was making him nervous. She considered the man as she hadn't last month. He was perhaps middle-aged, with a head of brown, shaggy hair. His eyes matched the color of his hair. His features were in proportion with his body, as he was a tall man, big about the shoulders. But he acted as though he didn't wish to be imposing, attempted to make himself smaller.

"Well, since you began with such a statement, I hope you aren't, either," Rebecca said. "I want to like you after the treatment you gave me at St. Mungo's."

She motioned to the chair across from her. He took it, then quickly looked back up at her.

"I'd first like to apologize for forcing you to go through the search at Azkaban," he said. "I had no idea—"

"Please, Mr. Robards, you were doing your job," she said. "I can't expect preferential treatment."

He stopped, then nodded. "I was impressed at both of the trials," he said. "You certainly do live up to everything that I've ever heard about you, which is why I'm here now."

"You're not going to offer me a job as one of your Aurors, are you?" she asked with a tiny smirk.

"I've already talked to Potter about it," Robards said. "He told me not to bother. I won't say that I'm not disappointed, but what I'm about to offer you might be something more appealing."

"Okay," Rebecca said, sitting forward slightly. "You have my attention."

"I have connections with the American Ministry," Robards said. "I knew their Minister for Magic, Brian Smith, when we were children. His father was stationed near where we lived as a child. We've kept in touch."

He reached into his robes and pulled out an envelope. "He sent me a letter via Floo a few days ago," he said. "It seems their Head Auror has retired. He asked me to leave my Ministry and my country to take the job. They're desperate to fill it with someone qualified, and he needs someone he can trust. Their Ministry hasn't been very strong since last year, when You-Know-Who took over."

Robards looked at Rebecca for a while before continuing.

"I told him I couldn't do that to my Minister, not having just won the war," he said. "But I told him I had someone in mind who might be willing to take the position. I mentioned your name, and he seemed very excited."

Rebecca's brows furrowed. "Go to America?" she asked. "Be a Head Auror?" She shook her head. "Why would you even think of me?"

Robards looked at her for a moment, and she could almost see him thinking. Finally, he sighed before answering.

"Potter tells me no one can lie to you," he said. "I don't want to test you, because I've been wanting to like you the moment Potter stood up for you after the battle."

"I appreciate that."

Rebecca was shocked into silence after that, listening carefully to what Robards had to say.

"I had Anthony report to me what happened over the next two days when I wasn't there," he said. "You're extremely loyal, perhaps to a fault, he told me. You're sharp, quick, and have a nasty tongue, like any good Slytherin should. I've witnessed some of these traits already, so I wasn't surprised when he confirmed it. Then I went to your trial and watched how your friends spoke of you, listened to how you spoke of yourself."

He paused. "Then the trial I was waiting for: Snape's. Your defense of him moved me. I came up to speak to you after his trial was over, but you had already approached him. I'm sorry to say I heard everything. I don't want you to think that I naturally pry, because I let other people do that—it never sat well with me. But when Potter came in the next day, talking about how your father had treated you when you went to find him after getting him to a safe house…"

He pursed his lips. "I know what Kingsley wants to do with you," he said. "And I don't approve, not after seeing how you reacted to receiving your Order of Merlin. There's a lot more to you than most people realize, I think, Miss Felan."

Rebecca stared at the man before her, unable to speak. He held up the envelope again.

"This is the offer Minister Smith is willing to make you," he said. "I'll tell you right now it's very generous."

"But I've never even—"

"You were close to the Dark Lord, a close member of his Inner Circle," Robards said, interrupting. "You defeated Bellatrix Lestrange twice, if the rumors are true. You're as skilled a duelist as Alastor Moody and Severus Snape, they're saying. Potter's corroborating. Kingsley also had your N.E.W.T. scores released to a select few people, so naturally everyone knows. You're intelligent, you can be discrete, and you're loyal. You are the perfect candidate for this job. Moreover, something tells me you need to get away for a while."

Rebecca considered him for a moment before leaning forward and taking the envelope from his hand. She opened it and looked at it.

"You're kidding me," she said, eyes locating his.

"Brian is a very nice man," he said. "He needs to keep his Ministry from crumbling around him. You're the type of personality that he needs right now. If he was to convince someone from Britain, perhaps close to the Ministry or a war hero, people would regain faith in him and the American Ministry again."

"So he wants to use my stance to his favor."

"Yes, but the important thing to note is that he does not want to use _you_," Robards said.

Rebecca looked at the parchment again. A year contract, renewable if she chose. She could break it whenever she wished. Leave that would accumulate if she didn't use it. One hundred thousand galleons for the year. She would help to train the new recruits, drill the existing Aurors, and lead them out on raids for sympathizers of the Dark Lord or any magical terrorist groups. She would be part of the clean-up crew if anything got out of hand, and would oversee any Obliviating that needed to occur.

And she would be a thousand miles away from England, from all of the problems that weren't letting her sleep. From all of the chaos in the aftermath of the war. From so many people pulling her in different directions. The constant sorrow she felt. Not being able to help her friends cope with their losses. Not understand how she felt about everything.

And she could escape him. His memories. Hogwarts. The Burrow. Malfoy Manor. The Headmaster's office.

She could leave these feelings behind. Her terror, her anger, her sadness, her love… Everything.

"Yes," she said. "I do need to get away. Please tell Minister Smith that I'll arrive at the date he has listed on the parchment." She glanced again at it. "July fourth. Isn't that when the Americans celebrate their independence?"

Robards nodded. "He wanted to show you the beauty of D.C. when you arrive," he said. "It's a Saturday this year, so you're certain to enjoy yourself. I'll make the final arrangements. And I suspect that you'll tell everyone in your own time." He gave a polite smile.

"Yes, thank you," Rebecca said.

He stood. "I'll take my leave, then," he said. "Please tell… Molly that I appreciate her letting me into her home."

"I will," Rebecca said, stepping forward. She offered her hand. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

He shook her hand, smiling. "It's my pleasure."

Robards left, leaving Rebecca by herself, holding onto the envelope.

* * *

_Goodbyes, July 3, 1998_

There was a huge tent out in the Weasley's backyard, just as there had been for the two weddings that had taken place here. It was really a lovely night for a going away party. The air was warm, but not oppressive, and a slight breeze came through the trees and bushes.

Everyone was doing their best to at least pretend to be happy. Hermione was better at it than everyone else. She handed Rebecca a box, then kept one for herself, gave another to Harry, and then one to Draco, who had also joined them at the table.

"What's this?" Rebecca asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

"I've charmed these boxes to send items back and forth," she said. "If it can fit in the box, then it will send it. Even if the item is magically shrunk."

"Brilliant," Ron said.

Draco smirked. "It is rather ingenious, Granger, thank you," he said. His tone was kind.

"You're welcome, Malfoy."

It was still a bit tense, but there were moments when Rebecca thought that things were going to be okay between her Gryffindor friends and the Malfoys. Even Lucius and Narcissa were gathered with Molly, Arthur, Andromeda, Teddy, and Remus.

"You better keep in touch," Harry said, an arm draped over Ginny's shoulders as he pointed at her.

"I will, don't worry," Rebecca said, giving a soft smile.

"Pardon the intrusion, but I'm going to need to pull Miss Felan away for a moment."

Professor McGonagall's voice carried over the dull roar of the crowd of people that were under the tent. Rebecca looked up and smiled at the new Headmistress, standing.

"I'll be right back," she told her friends at the table.

She followed McGonagall to the edge of the tent. The older witch turned to her, desperation clearly written on her face.

"I'm going to attempt a last effort at getting you to stay," she said evenly. "No one wants you to leave, Miss Felan, least of all me. I need someone to take over my Transfiguration post. You're more than qualified to do so."

"I appreciate the offer, Headmistress—"

"Minerva, for the love of Merlin," McGonagall interrupted. "I believe we have reached that point, Rebecca."

Rebecca couldn't help but smile. "Minerva. I appreciate the offer. But I've already accepted the position. Besides, Transfiguration is very much a love of mine, but it isn't my passion."

"Horace is still the Potions Master," Minerva said. "But I could offer you the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

Rebecca furrowed her brows. "I thought that you'd offered that to Professor Snape?" she asked. "And that he's to take over the Deputy Headmaster position. I heard Professor Flitwick didn't want the added stress."

McGonagall sighed. "Yes, that is all true. Bloody gossipers."

"I'm not going to take the position away from Professor Snape," Rebecca said firmly. "And I'm certain there are more qualified people than me to take over your post as Transfiguration professor."

McGonagall paused, her lips thinning. "Is it because of what Severus said to you after his trial?"

Rebecca sighed, rolling her eyes. She turned from McGonagall, but the older witch was still spry. She stood in front of Rebecca, fists upon her hips.

"If that is what is driving you so far from home, Rebecca, I believe you're making a grievous mistake."

"Minerva. I've accepted the offer to work in America. I'm going, regardless of whatever you or anyone else thinks about why I'm leaving. And if that's the sole reason you think I'm leaving, then perhaps you don't know me as well as you claim to."

The two witches stared at one another for a moment. McGonagall faltered.

"Rebecca, my apologies," she said quietly. "I know that you have been through much more than most of the students…"

"Please, I don't need to hear the same thing again," Rebecca said. "I'm trying to move on, and this is the only way I can see myself doing so. I can't go back to Hogwarts right now. I can't be _here_ right now. I can think about _him_ right now."

She clamped her mouth shut, not meaning to say the last sentence.

"Rebecca, you are not yourself," Minerva said. "Are you certain you're making the correct decision?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Rebecca asked. "It's been made."

She looked to McGonagall once more. "I'm sorry that I had to Obliviate you," she said quietly.

"It was for my own good," McGonagall said with a smile. "I'll miss you, Rebecca."

"I'll miss you too, Minerva," she said.

"I know you don't enjoy being touched, but I hope you'll make an exception for an old woman."

Before Rebecca could say anything, McGonagall's arms were around her, hugging her tightly.

"Take care of yourself, Rebecca," she said, drawing away after a minute.

She walked away, leaving Rebecca standing there for a moment. She turned back to the table where her friends all sat to see them in generally good spirits. She watched them, observing. They would be fine without her, all of them. They could keep themselves together, could console one another in the bad times and support each other through the successes. Even Draco was fitting in better than she could have imagined.

Someone touched her shoulder, and Rebecca jumped.

"Sorry," said Remus. "I forget sometimes."

"It's okay," she replied, calming her beating heart.

"Are you sure those Americans are going to treat you well?"

She shook her head. "Not you too."

"I supposed Minerva's ploy didn't work, so I thought I'd try myself," Remus said with a shrug. "Why are you leaving, Becca?"

"Because I've agreed to a lovely job that happens to be elsewhere."

"I know that you haven't wanted to talk about anything, but don't you think now is the time to do just that?"

"No, and please stop, Remus," Rebecca said. "I'm going. End of discussion. No one can convince me to stay."

"No even Severus?" Remus asked.

"Wow, laying it on a bit thick there," Rebecca said, rubbing her forehead with her fingers.

"I don't think there's one of us here who didn't hear what he said to you after his trial," Remus said, lowering his voice.

"Which should tell you that he wants nothing to do with me, just as I want nothing to do with him," Rebecca said. "Not after how he treated me."

"I don't think that's true, Becca."

She sneered at him. "Do you want me to admit that I'm still in love with him?" she whispered quickly. "Do you want me to tell you the only reason I'm leaving is because I was spurned? What do you want from me, Remus? What?"

"To know that you're going to be all right," he said evenly. "I know this is going to be a moment of the pot calling the kettle black, but I don't think that you're as stable as you'd like us all to believe."

"You and McGonagall really were conspiring, weren't you?" Rebecca asked. "Who put you up to it? Harry? Well, whoever did or didn't, stop. I'm tired of it. All of it."

She turned from him, exiting the tent and standing under the open air. The night enveloped her, the breeze blowing comfortingly through her robes. It was quiet, and no one seemed to follow her. Rebecca let out a sigh, breaking the silence of the air around her.

In the quiet, she heard rustling. Her head turned quickly, eyeing the area she'd heard the sound come from warily. Finally, her eyes adjusted. A dark figure stood within the tree line, watching her.

Rebecca slowly took out her wand, but he continued to stand there. She cast her Patronus, muttering the adjustment to the spell Albus had taught them as Order members. Her wolf came fluidly from the tip of her wand. It formed solidly, then loped over to the figure in the trees, illuminating Severus Snape's face just so.

Severus took a step back as the wolf approached him. But he paused when the wolf opened its mouth.

"It's a wolf." A pause as the wolf stood before him. "I'm leaving. Are you happy now?"

Then it faded into the air, dissipating with the breeze. The dim light it offered fell away. Severus looked back up to see Rebecca Felan's back as she walked back up to the Burrow.


	14. The Year After the War

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for Rebecca. I don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **All right, I decided to try something different with this chapter, which I hope you all like. I also utilized the songs more in this chapter, and will continue to do so throughout the remaining chapters when I can. I'll try and get the next chapter up as quickly as possible, as it's the one I've been looking forward to writing this whole time. Just hope real life doesn't get too much in the way so this will be possible. I had some pictures, but those don't appear to be working, so I'll have to have links in my chapter. My apologies. Anyway, enjoy.

Songs for this Chapter:

"Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, July 6, 1998_

Harry,

Independence Day in America is definitely something I think Britain should aspire to. I've only seen fireworks a few times in my life, and naturally the magical ones are certainly better, but seeing so many of them and what muggles can do with them… It's truly beautiful.

Today was my first day at work. Minister Smith introduced me around to the other Aurors, everyone from the older, more seasoned veterans to the new recruits. The veterans I'm much younger than, and I'm the same age as most of the recruits. It's not like it is at our Ministry. Obviously, politics seems to be a male-dominated area, but at least there were nearly equal levels of female and male Aurors. Here, that isn't the case. I'd say it's about 95% male. I don't suspect this should be a problem, though.

I'll have a difficult time remembering all of these names, but I'm sure that I'll catch on soon enough.

I hope your job with the Aurors is going well. I haven't heard much else by way of news about any of the other escaped Death Eaters. Let me know if I need to write anything down by way of a statement against them.

Anyway, I should get going. I need to go to bed early tonight.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, July 9, 1998_

Rebecca,

It's dreadfully boring without you here. I just thought I'd let you know that before I said any of the other cursory things you're supposed to say in a letter.

I'll also admit that Potter, Weasley, and Granger are starting to grow on me. But if you tell them that, I'll deny it to their faces before coming across the Atlantic and personally hexing you.

Seriously, though, Weasley and Granger are sickening together. And Potter and Weasley's sister. It's awful the way they fawn over each other constantly.

Now that I've gotten my complaints out of the way, here's some good news: I've been offered a position in the Ministry. It's nothing glamorous. Looks like I'll be working with Lupin the Department of Magical Creatures. I'm working with the goblins, though. A bit ironic, I thought.

Potter tells me he thinks you're having problems with the American hooligans. I told him not to be dense.

Write back when you can, and by that I mean as soon as you get this. I might eat my own brains for some sort of intellectual sustenance.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, July 10, 1998_

Draco,

I got in late last night and was too tired to write. Here's hoping you didn't eat out all of your brains so you can still read this.

I led my first raid last night, which is about all I can say about it. It went well enough, though it did take a bit of concentration not to think that I was back in the midst of the battle. But I was fine.

I'm really glad to hear that you got a position in the Ministry. I knew Kingsley couldn't overlook you forever. I'm sure that means your N.E.W.T. scores came out. If you care to share, I'd like to read what you got. Seriously though, congratulations. You'll get promoted in no time.

Tell Harry not to worry about me. I've gained the Aurors' trust for the most part. Defeating them in duels helps, I suppose. But at least they're starting to understand how I work now, just like I'm getting to know them.

Must go. I have other letters to write. This is not saying you're unimportant, but I can't have everyone else thinking I've spent more time on other people's letters over theirs.

Take care,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Ron to Rebecca, July 11, 1998_

Becca,

Hermione told me I needed to practice my handwriting. So here it goes. Hope you can read this, at least.

George's joke shop is doing a lot better. Ginny's decided to help him out until she heads back to Hogwarts, so I took up Kingsley on his offer to join the Aurors. I couldn't be happier.

We're all still living at the Burrow. Hermione's been in contact with her parents, though. They're slowly coming round. I think things'll be better soon.

Also, I wanted to know what American hot dogs were like. Send me one if you can?

Cheers,

Ron

* * *

_Package & Letter from Rebecca to Ron, July 12, 1998_

Ron,

Here's your congratulatory hot dog straight from a street vendor. I'm happy to hear you're an Auror now. You'll make a great one.

Love,

Rebecca

[Package: a hot dog]

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, July 13, 1998_

Becca,

Ron's really grateful for the hot dog. I can't believe he actually asked for that. Boys.

Anyway, he was right. My parents are really receptive to everything, and they are coming around. They offered for me to come back and live with them until school starts again. I'm packing my things as soon as I'm done writing to you. I'm taking the box with me, since Harry and Ron are going to be living here for the indeterminate future. I can always make another box if necessary.

I just wanted to thank you again for putting my situation into perspective when I came back from restoring my parents' memories. You're truly a great friend, in case you didn't know.

I also can't wait to head back to Hogwarts, but I'm also a little frightened as well. McGonagall says that they're working as quickly as possible to restore Hogwarts from the damage it took during the battle. It should be ready by September 1. You'll have to give me notes about N.E.W.T.s when it gets closer.

I'll write later. I need to get packing. Hope everything is well in D.C.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, July 15, 1998_

Hermione,

I'm so happy you're moving back to your parents'. I knew they would be receptive if you just explained everything to them in terms they could understand.

And you're more than welcome. It's what friends are for, after all. I'm glad I helped.

Things are hectic here. Lots of training, lots of practicing. I'm starting to explore D.C. when I have a spare few hours. You'd love the Smithsonian museums. I've started with the space and aviation museum and I'm already impressed. I'm going to work my way through all of them eventually. Then, it'll be onto the memorials.

D.C. is really historical, and I quite like it. Everyone here is a bit self-absorbed. I suppose that's what happens when you get the magical and muggle capital in one place. But their government is very close to the muggle government, much more so than our Ministry is with ours. I quite like that.

I've just been called back to the Ministry. Must go.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, July 17, 1998_

Becca,

Draco keeps telling me I'm dense. While he's grown on me a bit (and if you tell him that, I'll deny it when he laughs in my face), I'm finding it's growing on my nerves. Are you sure everything is going well over there?

Also, I'm jealous that you sent Ron a street hot dog and didn't send me anything. Offended, really. Some cousin you are.

On the weekends, I've started going through Grimmauld Place, since Sirius left it to me. Still a bunch of scary stuff there, even after we cleaned it all out in the summer before our fifth year. I'm hoping it'll be habitable by the end of the year.

Things are going well with Ginny, even under the watchful eye of Mrs. Weasley. It's why I'm trying to clean the place out, you see. Well… I hope you don't take that the wrong way.

Hermione says you're busy. Do they have you on-call all the time? I hope you get some time to rest, at least.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Package & Letter from Rebecca to Harry, July 20, 1998_

Harry,

Sorry, I was on a stake-out for about 24 hours. Hopefully the Coca-Cola Slurpee makes up for it. The muggles love it. And, I'll admit, I have a growing fondness for it.

And yes, everything is going well. I'm settling in nicely. My flat is a good size and fully-furnished. I don't even have to pay for it since it's the Ministry's property. I get enough free time to go and look at the Smithsonian museums for a few hours, like I told Hermione.

I wish you luck in tackling the monumental task that is cleaning Grimmauld Place. Merlin knows I wouldn't want to try that again.

And hopefully your cleaning it out will allow… for whatever you want it to allow between you and Ginny. No further comment in that regard.

I hope you're furiously blushing now.

You are.

You're welcome.

Rebecca

[Package: a Coke Slurpee]

* * *

_Package & Letter from Rebecca to Draco, July 21, 1998_

Draco,

I sent Ron and Harry something, and I figured you wouldn't want to be left out. It's like Firewhiskey with less fire. It's apparently the drink of choice for many Washingtonians, or so the man at the liquor store told me.

Apparently you have to be 21 to drink here. I'm now a proud owner of a magicked muggle identification card stating my age as 21 so that I might partake of these drinks.

I hope the position at the Ministry is treating you well. I suspect you're busy since I haven't heard from you in a while. Send your parents my greetings and love.

Rebecca

[Package: a bottle of Captain Morgan Rum]

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, July 23, 1998_

Rebecca,

Thanks for the rum. My parents and I quite enjoyed it. Apparently muggles can make their fair share of liquor.

Everything is going well enough at the Ministry. I think they're using this position to test me, to see if I can take orders. I can, I just have a running dialogue in my head. Which I've been keeping to myself, so don't worry.

The Americans need to get their acts together about the drinking age. I'm sure people find ways around it anyway. 21. Honestly.

Mother and Father send their love in return. Mother wants to know if you have enough clothes. I told her you were probably swimming in them, with as much as she bought you last summer.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, July 23, 1998_

Becca,

Where's my souvenir?

Hermione

* * *

_Package and Letter from Reb__ecca to Hermione, July 24, 1998_

Hermione,

You're welcome.

Becca

[Package: an old edition of _War & Peace_]

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, July 27, 1998_

Harry,

I have a favor to ask of you. And before you start trying to do your psychological reading of the situation, I ask that you just don't. I've sent a sealed envelope with a letter for Professor Snape in it. Please give it to him for me?

Thank you in advance.

Love,

Becca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, August 1, 1998_

Becca,

I went to Hogwarts today after work since I know the professors started arriving today to start planning. The repairs to the castle are going really well. McGonagall thinks they'll be on-time for the start of the term next month.

I'm not going to analyze your situation. Here's what happened:

I went to see Professor Snape. He was setting up the Defense classroom to his liking. He wasn't pleased to see me, but he listened when I explained that you'd given me a letter for him. I handed it to him.

He reached for it and I thought he was going to take it for a moment. But the envelope and letter, everything, it turned to ash in my hand. After that, he told me to leave. So I did.

I'm really sorry, Becca.

Let me know if you need to talk.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, August 2, 1998_

Harry,

Thanks for trying. That was about what I expected. I'm fine, but thank you for asking.

Love,

Becca

* * *

_Rebecca, August 3, 1998_

Rebecca had taken to traveling by the Metro to get places around D.C. It was a fairly quick method of travel, and she wanted to experience the city as muggles did. And it also let her focus on things other than work for once.

She didn't bother trying to hide her Dark Mark anymore, not as though she could. It was something that could only be covered with clothing, and wearing long sleeves here in the summer was torturous. Her scars she generally wore openly when she was at work, but she'd needed to in order to get any sort of respect from the other Aurors she worked with. Beating most of the veterans in duels had also helped solidify her seriousness. Few of them gave her issues anymore, though things were still a bit tense.

She stood on the Metro, holding onto the railing above her head. Today she wore one of her knee-length tan skirts, a light green t-shirt, and comfortable walking shoes. There was more exploring of the Smithsonian to do. She decided that today she deserved a trip to the National Zoo, which she was looking forward to.

A standing across the compartment had been watching her every so often for the past few minutes. Rebecca was hyper-aware of everyone in the compartment with her, but especially when people stared for too long. He was tall, lean, sandy-brown hair and ocean-blue eyes. Wearing a lightweight, black suit. Handsome enough. But handsome men could be dangerous, too.

So when he began making his way across the compartment toward her, Rebecca felt herself tensing, preparing for anything.

He smiled, flashing perfect teeth at her. "I'm sorry if my staring's made you uncomfortable," he said. "But I have to say, that's a really interesting tattoo you have."

Rebecca almost raised an eyebrow at him. But this was a simple muggle. He didn't know any better. And there wasn't a hint of a lie on his face.

"Thanks," Rebecca said shortly, looking away from him and out one of the windows.

"I'm Gavin Price," he said, reaching his free hand out to her.

"Rebecca Felan," she said, tentatively reaching forward and shaking his hand.

She realized she'd seen him riding this same route a few times over the past month. But he hadn't been watching her as intently as he had today. But she did recall him.

"Nice to finally meet you," he replied. "I've noticed you a few times, but I wasn't sure how to approach you."

"Well, compliments are always a decent method," she said with a shrug.

He chuckled. "You must have just moved here," he said. "I would have noticed you before. I ride this route nearly every day. Welcome to America."

"Thanks. I got in on the fourth. That was an experience."

Politeness, she decided. He didn't seem a threat so far. And she didn't want to stand out to many other people in the compartment, but that was proving difficult since they were the only ones talking.

"I bet it was," he said. "Fireworks are really magical, you know?"

Rebecca couldn't help but smirk. "They are."

"Where are you headed today?"

"The National Zoo," she answered.

"You'll love it," he said. "The pandas are an especially good attraction."

"I'll remember that, thanks," she said.

"Maybe you'd like to tell me about it over dinner?" Gavin asked, tilting his head forward hopefully.

Rebecca could feel all attention from the passengers in the compartment upon her. Even if they weren't trying to look as though they were paying attention, their body language told her that they were all ears.

"I… suppose that couldn't hurt," Rebecca said carefully.

Gavin flashed another smile. "Great. Here," he said, reaching into his front pocket. He withdrew a card and a pen, then leaned against the pole he hung from to scribble on the back before handing it to her.

"Meet me here at 8," he said. "Wear whatever you like—it's not too fancy. I'll look forward to it all day, Rebecca." Another smile.

"Me too," Rebecca said, looking at the card before glancing back up at him. "This should prove… interesting."

The train was slowing down, and Rebecca prepared herself to get off.

"It was nice meeting you, Gavin," she said, stepping away briskly.

He waved as she stepped off the Metro onto the platform to wait for her connecting train. Gods, did she just agree to a date with a complete muggle stranger?

She looked at his card, flipping it over for a clue as to his identity. At least the card had the same name. He appeared to be an attorney. She stowed the card in her bag. This was going to prove interesting, indeed.

Later that night, Rebecca stood outside of a building marked the same as the name on the back of the card. A man standing outside the door wearing a uniform smiled at her.

"Restaurant's upstairs on the roof, ma'am," he said, opening the door for her.

"Thank you," Rebecca replied, walking through the open door.

She took the elevator all the way up, smoothing out her black skirt and looking at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. Her black and white blouse was form-fitting, but covered appropriately. The outfit wasn't too dressed-up, could do in many situations, she hoped.

A date. With a muggle attorney. Merlin, what had she gotten herself into?

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped outside to be greeted by the host.

"Hi, I'm looking for someone," Rebecca said, approaching the man. "Mr. Price?"

"Yes, he has a reservation for now," said the host. "He's already here. Please follow me." He smiled kindly and turned.

Rebecca followed him quickly, her slight heel keeping her from walking at her normal pace. But finally, they reached a table near the edge. Gavin Price stood up, wearing a slightly dressed-down version of what he had before, though the suit jacket was nowhere to be seen.

"Rebecca," he said, smiling and standing and moving to pull the seat out for her. The host left them with a little bow of his head.

"If you don't mind, I'd prefer the seat away from the edge," she said with a nervous smile.

"Of course," he said, moving around her quickly.

Immediately, Rebecca jerked her head around to watch him, but he didn't seem to notice. She took the seat he'd pulled out for her and sat. He moved to the one across from her.

"I should have asked if you were afraid of heights," he said, sitting down. "Sorry about that."

"They make me a bit nervous," she said. "I fell once when I was in school. Haven't had quite the same relationship with heights since then."

Gavin flashed his brilliant smile once more. "I can understand that," he said. "Now, feel free to order anything. It's all on me," he said, pressing a hand against his chest.

"Thank you," Rebecca said, taking up the menu and looking it over. "So, you're a solicitor."

"Excuse me?" Gavin asked.

Rebecca put the menu down. "I'm sorry. Attorney. Or lawyer."

"Yes," he said, seeming to settle down. "It's my first year practicing. I just passed the bar."

Rebecca nodded along, thankful that she was muggleborn and could at least follow that much of the conversation.

"What brings you to Washington?" he asked. "School? Job?"

"A job, actually," she said. "I'm… let me see. I don't really have an official title."

She hadn't thought of this, so she thought of something similar she could tell him.

"I'm a defense trainer," she said with a smile.

"Like martial arts?" he asked, leaning over the table.

She shrugged. "Something like that."

"Sounds more interesting than being an attorney," he said, picking up the menu, though he still wasn't looking at it. He didn't stop staring, and Rebecca shifted uncomfortably under his weight.

"It's long hours, but I enjoy it well enough," she said. "I work mainly with special forces, so the hours can be odd."

Half-truths. All of them. She couldn't tell him anything even if she wanted to. And Rebecca wasn't entirely sure she trusted this man, as nice as he seemed.

He nodded in answer, but didn't move to look at the menu. Rebecca's looked down at her menu instead, eyes widening slightly.

"My apologies," he said, reaching a hand across the table. Rebecca moved her hands, the menu now in her lap as she stared up at him. Gavin paused, a look of confusion crossing over his face for a moment.

"I prefer not to be touched," she said quickly, eyes flicking down to the menu.

She could feel his eyes still upon her. He was assessing the situation, wondering how he could save it.

"You look… very beautiful, Rebecca," he said.

She looked up, a smile across her face that would pass for real to anyone not looking for anything else. "That's kind of you."

She moved the menu back onto the table. Now that she had set the ground rules, and he now understood that she could defend herself, she decided to see how he would act. She moved the menu so he could see.

"Would you recommend the lobster or the shrimp?" she asked.

"Lobster, for sure," he said, pointing to it on the menu. "The best I've had in D.C."

Rebecca nodded. The waiter came by to take their drink orders. Rebecca ordered a glass of water. She was not going to drink around this man. He ordered a glass of wine, and the waiter was off again.

"How was your trip to the zoo today?" he asked.

"Wonderful, actually," she said. "And the pandas were spectacular. Adorable, too."

Gavin smiled. "Glad to hear it."

"I was a bit disappointed that they didn't have the grey wolf," she said. "They're my favorite."

He shrugged. "Maybe they'll expand. Do you plan on being here for a while? Maybe we can go see the wolves when they get them."

Rebecca gave him a derisive smirk as the waiter returned with their drinks. She waited for him to take their orders before responding.

"I plan on being here for at least the next year," she said. "We'll see after that. I have a contract job, you see."

He nodded. "Where in England are you from?"

"Brighton," she said. "It's along the coast, south of London."

"Okay," he said, though his face was blank. "I'm from Boston originally."

"It has a rich history," she said, recalling some of her reading she'd been doing about major cities of the U.S. after first arriving. "The Boston Tea Party and all of that. You certainly told us." She smirked and took a sip of her water.

Gavin laughed. "How did your family feel about you coming here?"

Rebecca paused, the glass half-way back to the table as she recalled the way her father had yelled at her. She forced herself to put the glass back on the table, but he noticed her pause.

"My, uh, _real_ family doesn't care what I'm doing right now," she said. "The friends I consider my family didn't want me to go." She looked up at him, a sad smile on her face. "They wanted me to stay and... do something I didn't want to. But it was time."

Gavin nodded along. "I imagine you keep in touch pretty frequently," he said.

"I write a couple of times a week and they write me back," she said. "I'm better off here. Life was hectic back home. My new job is busy, and some of you American men seem to have a problem with women being independent and protecting themselves, but it's better for me here."

She shot him a look. "I'm sorry, my mouth runs away with me sometimes."

But he was laughing. "With the type of men I imagine you're working with, I can understand how you'd get that opinion." He chuckled. "I think it's sexy when a woman's outspoken."

Rebecca looked down once more as she lifted her glass and took a sip of water.

"I'm sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable," Gavin said, sitting back in his chair slightly.

"It's been a while since I've been the center of such attention," she said, setting down her glass again.

"You're kidding me."

Rebecca glanced up once more and saw the shock on his face. She looked at him incredulously. Gavin leaned forward upon the table once more.

"Don't the men in England know a pretty, intelligent woman when they see one?"

Rebecca shrugged. "I suppose not."

"Crazy," Gavin said quietly, drinking from his wine.

"And yet you've remained single this whole time?" Rebecca asked with a raised eyebrow. "You're polite, have a good job, and you don't seem crazy."

He chuckled. "Thanks," he said. "I just got out of a long relationship, actually. She was pretty insecure. I prefer women who know what they want and who have confidence in themselves."

Rebecca nodded. "What kind of law do you practice, Gavin?"

A slow smile crept over his face. "Divorce."

Rebecca smiled, trying to hide it in her glass.

"You're sharp," he said, leaning forward once more. "What college did you go to?"

"I didn't, actually," she said. "Boarding school is all. I read a lot, and I'm a studier of people."

"Oh?" he asked. "A hobby of yours?"

"Of sorts," Rebecca said, staying back in her seat. He was leaning forward enough for the both of them. "I watch people's expressions, their body language."

"So… you can tell when people are lying?" Gavin asked.

Rebecca nodded.

"That would be so useful," he said, taking another sip of his wine. "Have you ever played two truths and a lie?"

She furrowed her brows and shook her head.

"Well, the name pretty much explains it all. I'll tell you two truths and a lie and you have to guess which one is the lie," he said. "Give me a second."

He clapped his hands together, shutting his eyes so he could think.

"Okay," he said after a minute, looking up. "Which one is the lie?"

He paused a moment, looking into her eyes. Rebecca's eyes were already flicking over his face, looking for subtle signs of movement.

"I am exceedingly attracted to you. I cannot wait to get out of here. And I think that we get along really well."

Rebecca paused, blinking a couple of times. "Well," she said, pointing to his face, "if you meant for the second one to be the false one, you've failed."

"I don't—"

"Your pupils dilated even more when you mentioned leaving," she said. "Your heart was beating faster when you said the first—I could see it beating on your neck— and you looked over my face when you said the third. When people lie, they tend to make more eye contact, which you didn't do until the second one. But that was so you could try to make it pointed, I suppose. But your eyes dilating means lust. So, in a way, you don't want to leave because you're having a lovely time and you _do_ think we get along, but you'd rather have me out of here because that means there's a chance of seeing me nude."

She held open her hand, leaning back in her chair to sit up straight. Gavin blinked quickly, looking down at the table. He took his wine glass and took another sip from it, setting it down slowly before looking at her again.

"Are you sure you're not a mind reader?" he asked quietly.

Rebecca shook her head. "People give away a lot more than they intend to," she said.

"I think I've offended you," he said, his voice low.

"You're male; you have what thoughts that you do because you're programmed that way," Rebecca said.

Gavin chuckled, sitting back in his chair. The waiter returned at that moment, carrying a large tray. He set the lobster in front of Rebecca first before setting the shrimp in front of Gavin. When the waiter left, Gavin raised his glass.

"Cheers," he said. "To a great night with wonderful, quick-witted company."

"Cheers," Rebecca said, raising her glass and touching it to his.

They each took their sips and set down their glasses. It was quiet for a moment as they each dug into their respective dinners. At least the chef had already cut open the skin of the lobster, so she didn't have to go through and crack open all of the shell. Her first bite was very good, and she savored it for a moment before swallowing.

When she looked up once more, she found Gavin looking across the table.

"I wish I could read you like you can read me," he said.

"It's taken me a few years to pick up everything I have."

"Will you teach me?" he asked. "You said you were going to be a teacher. I bet you would have been great at it."

Rebecca shook her head. "I wasn't taught," she said. "And it's really something you have to learn for yourself how to pick up on."

She turned back to her lobster. He didn't speak anymore throughout dinner, for which Rebecca was grateful. She never liked talking during dinner.

They didn't order dessert, and Gavin walked with her and rode the elevator down with her. Rebecca stayed in the corner of it, and he was nice enough to keep his distance. The doorman opened the door for them on their way out.

"Will you let me escort you home?" he asked. "Or at least let me walk with you to the Metro station?"

"That's fine," Rebecca said, "the latter, that is."

He smiled. They walked for a bit in quiet, her heels clacking against the sidewalk.

"I feel like there's a lot to you," he said. "I like it. You're not mysterious or anything. But I do feel like you're not telling me a lot, which I understand. We just met."

"There's a lot to me," Rebecca said, nodding. "Not many people know it. And a lot who do know, I would prefer if they didn't."

"It can't be that bad," he said, pressing the button for the crosswalk. Cars were still out at this time. This city never seemed to go to fully go to sleep.

Rebecca looked up at him, realizing how tall he was. Easily over six feet. Even at her height, five foot seven in American measurements, that was fairly tall. "It is," she said. "I believe your saying is, 'I plead the fifth'?"

Gavin smiled. "Right. But someone with a sweet face like yours… I can't believe it can be anything that bad."

The light changed for them, and Rebecca took a step back from him. She looked out into the street and saw the cars were stopped. She made her way across the street, Gavin jogging a few steps to keep up.

When they'd crossed the street, he picked up the conversation again.

"I'm pretty quick, too," he said, looking down at her. "You're in defense training, but I think you work for the government. Not for contract."

"And why would you think that?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Your demeanor, the way you hold yourself. Your vague descriptions without being too vague. The different-looking tattoo." He smiled. "I've lived in D.C. long enough to know the type. So tell me," he said, leaning down so he could see her face more clearly, "am I right?"

"I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you," Rebecca said with a hint of a smile.

She avoided crashing into him just barely when he suddenly stopped. Rebecca peered up just as his face was coming toward hers. Her heart raced as the feeling of entrapment came over her. Quickly, Rebecca side-stepped, trying to normalize her suddenly fast breathing as she watched Gavin slowly come to the realization that she was no longer where he thought she was.

He slowly turned to face her, looking her over.

"Someone really did a number on you, honey," he said gently.

"I'm not your honey," Rebecca whispered harshly, staring at him through her hair, the shield separating them.

He held up his hands. "No offense meant," he said.

"I'm going home," Rebecca said, still watching him as she turned.

"The card has my number on it," he said, raising his voice as she walked away. "I hope you call me. I had a really good time, Rebecca!"

She already had her back to him, was keeping her strides long and purposeful, not running. She was not running. She didn't want to ride the Metro back. It didn't feel safe. But she also wasn't sure if she could concentrate long enough to Apparate.

But she had to try. She ducked into an alleyway, waiting a moment to see if Gavin or some stranger had followed her. Then she took out her wand from in her bag and closed her eyes for a moment, clearing her mind.

She was outside of her building within a few moments. Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief before jogging somewhat awkwardly to the door. She was in her flat within a minute, warding the door more than she usually did.

Panic. Even still, after all of this time. Others touching her without warning usually set her off, but not this bad. She was slipping, wasn't practicing or trying hard enough. She had to push herself to get over this. Her friends were a different story. She trusted them. They wouldn't harm her. But others were a different story. Even sometimes her friends couldn't touch her without her pushing away from them.

Rebecca covered her face as she sunk down onto the couch. The large cushions surrounded her on all sides, letting her sink into the dense furniture. After a while, she felt somewhat better. She stood and went to take her ritualistic shower.

It was much like the one she'd taken after receiving her Dark Mark. The shower was nearly unbearably hot, and she had the bar of soap directly in her hand as she began scrubbing her body down without looking at it. It was stupid, not being able to look at the scars. They'd been a part of her for nearly four years, and they weren't going anywhere. Everyone in the wizarding world knew about them and her Mark—common knowledge, old news. But the way they tarnished her skin, the fear she recalled when looking at them… Rebecca shook her head, practicing her breathing to calm her as she continued to scrub.

She felt calmer as she stepped out of the shower, more like herself again. She wiped the mirror of condensation so she could stare at her reflection. Green eyes peered back at her, curious, accusatory… sad.

It was an emotion she was growing accustomed to. It plagued her sleep, her waking thoughts, and everything she did. Only at work could she focus, or when she was trying to find a book at the bookstore she'd begun to frequent. Or at the Apothecary, preparing for the time when she was ready to brew again. But those were her moments of clarity, though she faked it well enough in her letters.

She dressed for bed and laid under the covers in the darkness for a while, listening to the sounds of the flats around her. It was mostly quiet this time of night, but occasionally there was the sound of the pipes or someone talking too loudly or the telly blasting. But it was quiet.

Rebecca rolled over and tried not to think of him. Of any of them. She'd made a mistake in coming here, so far from everyone. But Rebecca was resilient and stubborn. She would stay here, if only to prove to herself that she could do it. She would improve her attitude. And go on dates with more men. Maybe not Gavin. He was too nice, too polite. And it bothered her. Where was the sarcasm? The derisive remarks? Intelligent debate…

She forced the pillow over her head and groaned into it. Not exactly the characteristics she'd wanted to grow attached to. But inconceivably she had, and look at where she'd ended up, she reminded herself.

But he didn't care about her, she also consciously thought. He burned the letter I gave to Harry for him. He didn't want to read it.

She turned over once more and closed her eyes, clearing her mind once more in the hopes of sleep coming to her sooner than it usually did. She pushed Severus Snape from her mind, resolved that she would make no comparisons with any further men she would meet and date. She wouldn't think of him, wouldn't ask about him. He wanted nothing to do with her, and there was no reason that she couldn't want the same of him.

* * *

"On the other side of a street I knew / Stood a girl that looked like you. / I guess that's déjà vu, / But I thought this can't be true. / 'Cause you moved to west L.A. or New York or Santa Fe, / Or wherever to get away from me…. / Oh, but that one night / Is still the highlight. / I didn't need you until I came to. / And I was overwhelmed, and frankly scared as hell / Because I really fell for you." –"Drive By" by Train

_Severus, August 4, 1998_

Returning to Hogwarts had been a challenge for Severus. So many memories, so many different things that would need to be done in preparation for this year. But at least they had a Transfiguration professor, at least if only for this year.

He walked the now much shorter distance to the Headmistress' office, another place he had little desire to go to, but he had been summoned there. As her Deputy Headmaster, he was obliged to speak with Minerva on occasion, even if she had the annoying habit of… Well, simply getting on his nerves.

The newly-remade gargoyle jumped out of his way, bowing its head as he walked by. Severus rolled his eyes at the creature before entering the office.

"Severus, do come in and sit down," Minerva said from her desk, scribbling furiously upon the parchment in front of her.

Severus smirked at the pile of paperwork on her desk and did as he was told, sitting quietly and watching her over his nose.

Minerva finally huffed and set her quill down. "I don't know _how _Albus made this look so easy," she muttered, her lips growing into the familiar thin line to show her frustration.

Severus glanced up at the old Headmaster, sitting quietly in his portrait. "Albus had a knack for fooling people into thinking things were much easier for him than for everyone else."

Minerva sighed.

"I'm surprised at your choice for Transfiguration professor," Severus continued, folding his hands in his lap. "But I suppose he will do for now, until another, more suitable replacement can be found."

"Percy Weasley was the only one with acceptable qualifications," Minerva said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "And was the only one available who was willing. I offered the post to Miss Felan before she left last month, but she turned me down in no uncertain terms."

Severus felt his upper lip rise slightly at the mention of her name. Minerva rolled her eyes.

"If you don't mind, I would prefer if you try to pull the other one," she said flatly. "I know that you were there, Severus."

"And heard you offering up my position in your desperate attempt to get the chit to stay," Severus growled. "Pathetic, Minerva, and absolutely so."

"I'm supposing you didn't stay to hear her answer," Minerva said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Probably some simpering excuse about her duties and already being bound," Severus said, sitting back in his chair. "Nothing particularly new or amusing."

"She said she would never do that to you."

Severus' eyes flicked to somewhere else in the room and did not speak.

"Even after how you spoke to her after your trial," Minerva continued, shaking her head slowly. "Perhaps Gryffindor _would_ have been a better House for her. At least there she would have gained acceptance."

"Is there some sort of _point_ to this meeting, Minerva?" Severus asked, black eyes flashing as he looked back at her.

"Yes," she said. "Your syllabus. I have need of it within the next week so that I might review it. At least you got me your book list on time."

"Is there anything else you require of me, Headmistress?" Severus said.

"Do try not to terrify Percy," Minerva said. "Or convince the Slytherin students that he's anything but qualified. He's got enough on his plate as it is, and I can't afford to have him running off before winter break."

She looked up at Severus, glaring. "_Now_ you're dismissed."

Severus stood quickly, robes billowing as he left the office. The nerve of her. He fumed as his brisk pace carried him down the corridor and back to his own classroom, where he had been clearing out the old, unnecessary items.

His limp was less pronounced, but he sometimes still had issues with his left appendages not always doing what he told them to. Occasional spasms. Nothing too serious. The wounds upon his neck had never healed quite properly, so the scars there were a sight to behold. He took to wearing even higher collars to hide them. He wouldn't be any more of a spectacle for his students than he needed to be.

He returned to his classroom, finding that he was no longer in a mood to prepare it. He had gotten about an hour into things, had a good rhythm going. Sorting items by professor, wondering which items had actually belonged to Moody and which to Barty Crouch Jr. Sneering at the memory of Lockhart. Taking an extra moment to carefully set aside the few things Lupin had left… As much as he didn't want to like the man, Severus had to admit that he felt a certain kinship between their situations. People had shunned Severus for most of his life because of who he was, and the same could be said for Lupin, though it was nothing he could have helped.

With the Life Debt he owed finally gone, Severus had taken a long look at many of his memories, including the ones he'd given to Potter. The boy had given them back fairly soon after Severus had gotten out of Azkaban, going so far as to come to his home in Spinner's End. Severus had snatched the vial of memories from Potter's grasp before the boy could utter more than a few words, yelling his thanks as Severus slammed the door in his face.

Those memories didn't hold quite the same feelings for him anymore. Or at least those emotions weren't as strong as they had once been. He felt calmer. Could look at things with a clearer head. And he examined his relationship with Lily Evans, scrutinizing everything. Perhaps some clue would reveal itself, and he could put all of this to rest once and for all.

That had exactly been what had happened. He saw the true Lily, not the Lily through his love-hazed glasses he'd forced upon himself from childhood. She was still an innately good person, but Severus could see how she had used him during their school years. And when he did start to truly scare her was when she decided his frightening new attitude outweighed his usefulness as a study partner. And that was that. There had been, perhaps, some love for him. But it paled in comparison to how much of an idiot he looked, wanting to cater to her needs and desires. But she never would have loved him the same way that he _had_ loved her.

There would always be a certain sense of thankfulness, a type of love, toward the girl who had befriended him and treated him normally for so much of his formative years. But Severus could no longer delude himself. As much of a saint he'd believed her to be, she was just a human being—just like everyone else.

This realization hit him anew as he entered his office, and Severus sat heavily in his chair behind the desk. He stared at the smooth surface, pondering everything as it returned to him. When his eyes focused upon reality once more, he saw the cream-colored envelope, familiar, neat handwriting addressing the parchment inside to him.

Slowly, Severus reached forward to pluck the envelope from his desk. He twisted slightly in his chair as he considered it. Mastering the art of copying an object before destroying what appeared to be the original had been another trick taught to him by the Dark Lord. He'd not wanted to use it until the moment Potter handed him this letter.

_She said she would never do that to you._

That was a far cry from the parting message her Patronus had delivered to him. Her voice had been even, angry, and everything that he expected of someone who'd been spurned. But Minerva's words did not match up with this. Was this more acting on her part before leaving, to convince him that she wouldn't think of him?

But then there was this letter, the one that he'd had yet to read. Why he had made a copy of it was still quite unknown to him, but there he sat, holding the thing. It smelled faintly of her.

And Severus recalled on his trip to Diagon Alley earlier in the day that he'd received the letter, he was caught off-guard by a flash of red in his peripherals. How quickly he had turned, acting on pure instinct. Across the street stood a thin young woman, red hair flowing past her shoulders. But upon looking directly at her, this person was nothing like her. Severus found himself looking at the young woman longer than he'd wanted to, and ended up scowling and turning away from her, going about his business, more annoyed now than he had been before.

She was gone. Not in England. America had been her destination, to get away from everything, but mostly him. For however well she acted and could inflect perfectly to mimic any emotion she desired, Rebecca Felan could not hide the fact that she was hurting fiercely. Severus heard through the tumult of gossip that always occurred when returning to Hogwarts with his colleagues that her father had banished her from his sight the very afternoon of his trial, forbidding her from coming near her own family.

N.E.W.T. scores revealed that she had delved deeply into her studies as a means of escape, just as she had always done. And Minerva he heard muttering about Kingsley, the one who was supposed to be the golden-hearted man, the first night back at dinner. Apparently Kingsley had tried to coerce her into joining the ranks of the Ministry as his own personal spy, disguised as his personal assistant and body guard. The thought had been enough to make Severus snort at the absurdity. No wonder she was such a wreck.

Severus suddenly realized that he was analyzing her and sat up in his chair, the envelope with her handwriting staring him in the face. With a flick of his hand, the top of it opened evenly. He pulled out the folded parchment and opened it, his eyes scanning the words and the way her letters flowed into one another without quite being script.

_Professor Snape,_

_I must apologize for what I said the night before I left. It was very rude of me, and uncalled for. You always taught me it was important never to let my emotions control me, and I forgot that sentiment in that moment. _

_I wanted to send this letter to see how you were faring. I'm hopeful the wound upon your neck doesn't bother you too much, and that you don't suffer any ill effects from the venom or your treatment for it._

_Washington, D.C., is certainly much different from anywhere I've been before. It's extremely busy, there is too much to see and do, and the people are all interesting subjects—the wizarding people and the muggles alike. I'm pleased with my new position in the American Ministry. Minister Smith is kind and supplies me with enough hands to do what he requests and enough funds to get everything done._

_I've also met someone whom you're acquainted with. The Ministry's Potions Master, Mr. Albert Brauer, sought me out to discuss my potion, __Venenum of Animus.__ He is going to help me patent it within the next year and is trying to convince me to return to brewing. He wishes to help me gain my formal mastery of the subject, but I have not yet given him an answer. I was going to ask your opinion of what type of person he is before becoming acquainted with him further._

_I don't wish to take up more of your time, so I'll close my letter by saying that I hope you're well and that you have a good term at Hogwarts._

_Sincerely,_

_Rebecca Felan_

Severus read the letter numerous times, each pass showing him something more about her life that he guessed that her own _friends_ did not know. She was displeased with her current situation, was most likely miserable. And she was doing her best to hide it. Her diction might fool those who didn't know what to look for, but Severus had gotten quite skilled at decoding letters.

A sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach overwhelmed him, and he slid the parchment back into the envelope and placed the whole thing into his drawer, shutting it solidly. And thus ended his feelings of shame.

But his mind would not stop, as it rarely ever did anymore. Apparently having a near-death experience made one extremely thoughtful. And though that night and its subsequent days were somewhat fuzzy, he recalled what she had done to save him perfectly well.

The greatest kindness anyone had ever done to him. Someone who actually gave a damn about his life, who was willing to do whatever it took to save him. And her kiss had been terribly sweet. He hated himself for recalling it with such clarity. But he had returned the kiss in his state, no matter what it was, had allowed it and permitted it. He had agreed to it, not thinking she would use it as a means to save him. And now it was going to haunt him forever, plague his dreams as it had already begun doing as soon as he had lain in his own bed and slept well enough for the first time since being released from Azkaban.

He gave a groan and placed his hand over his eyes. Finally, he stood, forcing himself into some sort of business. He had the rest of the classroom to prepare, and then he would need to see about the items he no longer wanted.

There, a list of things to do that didn't require much thought.

But as he raised his finger to scratch the side of his nose, he caught the scent of her once more, remaining upon his skin. Pleasant, feminine, delicate, and pervasive. He could almost sense her in the room with him. She had become a staple in his life whether he wanted it or not. They had spent nearly every day with one another for the past year. Her sudden vanishing left him wanting for someone to talk to, as he'd grown accustomed to. But that space was open, and perhaps this openness bothered him.

He growled, walking through the open door and down into his classroom, intent upon his original task once more.

* * *

"Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood, / Miss 'No way, it's all good,' / It didn't slow me down. / Mistaken, always second-guessing. / Underestimated, look I'm still around. / Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel / Like you're less than fucking perfect. / Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel / Like you're nothin', you're fucking perfect to me…. / So complicated, / Look happy, you'll make it! / Filled with so much hatred- / Such a tired game. / It's enough, I've done all I could think of. / Chased down all my demons, / I've seen you do the same. / Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel / Like you're less than fucking perfect. / Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel / Like you're nothin', you're fucking perfect to me.

-"Perfect" by Pink

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, August 5, 1998_

Hermione,

I'd appreciate if you kept what I'm about to write to you between the two of us. I feel like writing my thoughts out on paper will help put things into perspective. I suppose I'll see, but I always appreciate your input on things.

I went on a date with a muggle solicitor—Gavin. He was polite, kind, intelligent, handsome, and attentive to a point of making me uncomfortable. Clearly he enjoyed my presence, but I'm not sure how I felt about his. He was perhaps pushy, but would apologize when he discovered my discomfort. I have little point of reference in these matters, and American men are, as I've noticed, vastly different from what I'm used to.

At the end of the date, he attempted to kiss me. I'll preface my reaction with the fact that he's very tall and well-built, so it may have added to my reaction. I side-stepped, felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I practically ran from him, but he called after me and told me to ring him because he'd had a good time regardless.

I'm beginning to think that he's perhaps too good to be entirely truthful, but I'm also an ex-spy at the tail-end of a war, so I could just be paranoid. I'm also still concerned about my reaction, because I believed I'd started working through my issues since my attack. I've always been watchful of others, and even more so since I'm essentially by myself here. But I do always have the feeling like my panic is just right at the forefront of bursting out. I don't know if my stay in Azkaban exacerbated my issues, if it was the final battle, or… any number of other things. Or all of the above.

I'm not yet close enough with anyone here to speak to them, but I don't feel as though I'm going to go bonkers or anything. I'm simply curious if I will lead a normal life. Your input or suggestions are desperately wanted and will be graciously accepted no matter what they are.

And before you can ask, here are the answers to the following questions I know you have:

Yes, I did enjoy myself for the most part on the date.

Yes, I plan on dating other men.

No, I don't have anyone in mind.

No, I haven't decided if I'm going to ring Gavin.

And the other question I don't want to encounter yet, and I know you're more tactful than that to ask, but I wanted to also make you aware that I'm aware of what everyone else must be thinking about that situation.

Also, you _can_ tell everyone that I've been on a date and any of those details pertaining to the male in question. That should please them.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Love, Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, August 6, 1998_

Rebecca,

You know me too well. I can't even get to ask any of my obligatory best-girl-friend questions.

To address your other concern, I think it's a compounding issue, Rebecca. I think you should see if the Ministry has someone who is able to deal with these problems you're having. Perhaps talking to someone objective about them might help you. Talking to strangers is daunting, I understand, but perhaps it couldn't hurt to try. You've probably already tried your normal meditation, but perhaps look into any advanced classes. My mum's recently gotten into yoga and says it helps her relax very well. Maybe there are some classes like that around where you live. Exercising in general seems to help with stress. Create a regimen for yourself and follow it religiously. Maybe one of these things or all of these things will help. I hope I was helpful.

I don't want you feeling down on yourself, Rebecca. Everyone copes differently. Please don't think any less of yourself.

And people have been told. Expect a flood of letters in your box along with this one.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebec__ca, August 6, 1998_

Becca,

You went on a date?! That bloke better treat you well. Tell him your cousin is a big deal in England and has powers he couldn't imagine. That should be vague and scary enough to keep him in line.

I'm glad to hear you're doing well. Write me back quickly with more information, if there is any other than the little Hermione told us.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Ron to Rebecca, August 6, 1998_

Becca,

Tell that bloke he's going to have to deal with a lot of crazy adopted family members should anything become serious.

Ron

P.S.- Lupin told me to tell you congratulations and he's glad to hear of the news. Mum's also happy, though something tells me she's faking it somewhat. Can't imagine why. Dad just seems amused about the whole thing—not your having a date, but Mum being happy but not happy about it. She's a bit weird, though, so I wouldn't worry too much about it.

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, August 6, 1998_

Rebecca,

Tell me why I had to hear from Granger that you've been on a date. You better write back quickly. Mother's beside herself with curiosity.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, August 7, 1998_

Hermione,

Merlin, what have I gotten myself into? I now have four letters to answer all at once. This will be brief, but here's an update.

I've started seeing the Aurors' version of the psychologist. I'm not really sure what his official title is. He might be part of their Unspeakables for all I know. He doesn't talk much, doesn't even take notes. I had one session with him and feel a bit frustrated, but we'll see how it goes.

There is a yoga class at the muggle gym down the street from my flat. The class meets twice a week, and I've joined it. I've also joined the gym and will be working out there before the class and an additional day or two a week, depending upon how much time I have. It won't be anything strenuous—just an hour or so every time I go. It might also help with my lack of sleeping. Again, I'll keep you updated.

Thank you so much for the advice. Please accept the enclosed gift as a token of my appreciation.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, August 6, 1998_

Harry,

Thanks for the threat. Surprisingly, you're the one who threatened. Draco is offended I didn't tell him directly. Ron told me to warn Gavin about my crazy adopted family. I find this funny.

There's not much else to tell. When there is, I'll update everyone via one letter. Hopefully I won't get four or more all at once.

Love,

Becca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Ron, August 6, 1998_

Ron,

I'll be sure to warn him if I see him again. I haven't yet decided.

I can't begin to wonder what you're mum's thinking. Contrary to popular belief, I can't read minds, especially from across the ocean.

How is Remus? You can tell him he's allowed to send me letters, too, as long as you and Harry aren't hogging the box. I'd like to hear from him.

Becca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, August 6, 1998_

Draco,

You can tell your mother that she can calm down. I have plenty of appropriate "date clothes." And that I'm fine.

I'm sorry Hermione had to be the one to tell you, but I didn't want to write four different letters when one was sufficient to spread the word.

I can tell you he thinks it's interesting that I can read him. He is a solicitor, so I suspect he's better than most at schooling their features. He's just not a Slytherin. And a muggle. And he thinks my Dark Mark is a tattoo—an image muggles get on their skin using ink. I'm not sure how to handle that. But I'm not sure what I expected from a muggle.

Anyway, I'll update you personally should anything else happen.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, August 7, 1998_

Rebecca,

Mother says, "Ha-ha." Father has the usual fatherly threats. He's missed out on having suitors to threaten, seeing as I'm not a girl. Keep the attention on you, Rebecca, and they'll likely forget I exist. Some friend you are.

What does this mean for you and Severus?

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, August 8, 1998_

Draco,

Tell your parents I appreciate their concern. And don't worry, they'll never forget their little baby-waby Dracokins.

I'm also sure I don't know what you're talking about.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, August 9, 1998_

Rebecca,

Deflections are for Beaters. Last time I checked, you were not one. Unless you've been leading a secret life in America, joining a Quidditch team and not telling us. For shame.

Seriously though, come off it. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, August 10, 1998_

Draco,

I don't play Quidditch. You know that I'm not fond of heights. I'm lucky I'm competent enough riding a broom that I don't fall off when I'm still on the ground.

And there is nothing to talk about. There's nothing there.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, August 10, 1998_

Hermione,

The exercise and sessions with Mr. Able seem to be helping. I'm at least sleeping somewhat better, though it will take me a while to feel comfortable enough to sleep through the whole night in my flat.

Hope you enjoyed the chocolates.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, August 11, 1998_

Rebecca,

I have enjoyed the chocolates! Thank you very much for sending them along. Muggle candy still holds a special place in my heart, possibly because it doesn't move unexpectedly.

I'm glad the suggestions I made seem to be helping you. I figured having a mind as active as yours needed a body as active to match in order to calm it down.

Have you been on any other dates?

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, copied and sent to Harry, Ron, & Draco, August 11, 1998_

All,

Instead of writing four letters, here are your updates all at once.

Yes, I have been on another date, and it wasn't with Gavin the solicitor. I gave another muggle man a try. One of my co-workers had a brother who had an extra ticket to the theatre to see a muggle Broadway show—for everyone besides Hermione, there's a lot of acting, singing, and general romantic notions you boys would find dull.

Richard was a nice enough man, but I'm beginning to think that muggles aren't appropriate for me right now. He knew about the wizarding world because of his brother, so that boundary wasn't particularly bad. But he wasn't as verbally engaging as I would've preferred.

Perhaps another go will help.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Remus to Rebecca, August 13, 1998_

Rebecca,

Instead of getting updates via Ron or Harry, I decided to sit down and write you myself at your behest.

We're still living with the Weasleys, as kind as they are. The repairs to her home are a bit more than Andromeda and I can handle, so it might be a while yet until she can move back there. I plan on staying with the Weasleys and allowing Andromeda to take Teddy. I will visit on the weekends, but will live here predominantly.

Let me explain before you try and put your brain out by working out the situation.

I'm not well, not by any stretch. I can function normally enough to hold my job, and that is all Kingsley really expects of me. The werewolves give me little difficulty since the majority of them were on the losing side. So my job is fairly simple, particularly with Greyback behind bars for the remainder of his life.

But mentally, I'm afraid, I'm not fit to be around my son for extended lengths of time. That sentence took me far too long to write. Admitting it is the first step to recovery, however. Or so they say. I cannot look at him without being reminded of Dora. Another painful sentence.

Andromeda, Molly, Arthur, and I have talked the situation over, and they have agreed to host me as long as necessary, on the stipulation that I pay room and board. Molly wouldn't hear of it, but I insisted. My recovery, I believe, is going to be slow and arduous. I was there. Right there. And I could do nothing. I still feel it's my fault.

I'm sorry to burden you with this knowledge, Becca, but I believe you will have a great understanding of my feelings right now. Hermione also mentioned that perhaps I would want to compare notes with you about things. It was an oddly vague statement, so I imagine she promised to keep something from the rest that you didn't want as common knowledge. But it's probably relevant to the situation. Tell me or not— I won't be offended either way.

I do hope that you're doing well. It seems that you are doing your share of exploring your new city, both singularly and with others. I'm glad that you're not getting down on yourself.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Remus

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Remus, August 16, 1998_

Remus,

I'm so sorry I couldn't write before now. I've been extremely busy at work and in keeping with my workout schedule I've set for myself. To keep it short: I took advice from Hermione about dealing with my issues stemming from Greyback's attacks. They seem to be helping, but only time can really tell. I still feel very nervous, jumpy, but it does not seem as bad as it was when I first arrived here. That's all she was talking about. I don't mind you knowing of the situation. Like you said, I understand better than most what you're going through and vice versa.

As for the situation you've explained, as long as you believe it will help you recover, it is your decision to make. I'm glad to hear the Weasleys will take you in. I'm sure their house is feeling somewhat empty after having so many people in it immediately after… after everything.

I'm doing my best not to get down on myself, but as I'm sure you understand it's very difficult. That's all I'll say on the subject.

I think you'd like it in D.C. There's a lot of history everywhere, and America in general seems like a fairly accepting place. Or perhaps that's my optimism for the century.

Please keep me updated if you are of a mind to.

Enclosed is 10,000 galleons, shrunk in order to fit more easily, in the separate envelope. I have no need of it. Give it to Andromeda from me so that she may rebuild her home more quickly. I know what it's like to feel displaced, especially at a time like this. There's no need to re-pay me, and if you or she attempts to I will deny it until I'm dead.

Love,

Becca

* * *

"Rip the earth in two with your mind. / Seal the urge which ensues with brass wires…. / I close my eyes for a while, / And force from the world a patient smile…. / If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy I could have won. / But I gave you all. / I gave you all. / I gave you all…. / And you rip it from my hands / And you swear it's all gone. / And you rip out all I have / Just to say that you've won… / You've won. / Well, now you've won. / But I gave you all. / I gave you all. / I gave you all." – "I Gave You All" by Mumford & Sons

_Rebecca, August 30, 1998_

The letters continued back and forth, too numerous to count. Remus had tried to refuse the money, but Rebecca kept sending it back. Finally, she received a letter from Andromeda, containing her gratitude and how much Rebecca did not need to do what she'd done. She was able to pay to fix up her home, and they would be able to move back in around mid-September. Rebecca wrote back to her, and soon discovered she had another pen pal. Another person to lie to about her life.

And while she was doing the things Hermione requested, still she lied. They weren't helping as much as she claimed. She still felt anxious. Couldn't sleep most nights. But her friends were a thousand miles away. There was no sense in worrying them. They all had their own lives to live and couldn't be concerned with someone they couldn't help so far away.

But she pressed on, just as she always had done. Her schedule was packed, but it felt normal. There had never been a day in her life for the past seven years where she had a free moment. And this allowed her less time to think. Inevitably, her brain would turn back to everything that had caused her to leave.

So many things that she had left behind. Cowardly. Unfaithful. Selfish.

Thinking back on it, Rebecca knew she had come under too much pressure. It had been too much for her. Mr. Able said the muggles had diagnosed what she had, called it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Perhaps all of them who had lived through the war, who had fought, all had a bit of this. There were anti-psychotics and anti-depressants the muggles would take, but muggle medicine did not affect wizards the same way it does non-magical beings, and it was unsafe to take. Rebecca had no intentions of taking anything.

By this point, Rebecca already felt as though she made the motions. The only thing keeping her on her toes were the training sessions or going out on missions with her Aurors. But they didn't feel like hers, as much as she tried to use the pronoun. As if to make herself believe.

She wasn't going to go back to Mr. Able. There was nothing he could do for her. And talking to him felt like talking to a brick wall. And he didn't understand, at least as far as Rebecca could tell.

That freed up her Monday evenings, so she could at least return to her sight-seeing or quiet strolls through her neighborhood. She had already made friends with the older muggle man at the bookstore at the end of her block. He gave her new reading material every time she came in, and Rebecca gladly paid for the books.

The day before, she spoke to Mr. Albert Brauer and agreed to begin the patenting process for her Animagus potion. And she would let him help her study for the test portion of the Mastery program for Potions. The test, he assured her, would qualify her anywhere in the world. And once she had passed the test, she could show her abilities in a couple of ways: through an apprenticeship, or by simply practicing informally, either on her own or with a Potions Master or Mistress. The last step would be to show her prowess by creating another, original potion that would help wizarding kind. She couldn't use her Animagus potion, simply because people were already aware of its existence.

Rebecca agreed to all of this, and Mr. Brauer set about to obtaining the proper paperwork and bid her to practice brewing her potion again and again until she could brew it with her eyes closed. That's what she had been doing with her Monday evenings, or any time that she wasn't doing other things.

Other dates were had, but after going through ten different men of varying types, Rebecca was giving up. There was always something missing, and she didn't want to be close to any of them. Many of them simply wanted to use her because of her station in the wizarding world, or to possibly get close to Harry Potter. It was disgusting. And the muggles weren't any better. They didn't let her feel relief at all. She was more on her guard with them. They were unpredictable creatures, things that couldn't be trusted.

She missed him. And it hurt her terribly, both admitting it and feeling it. The easy debates they could slip into, their conversations, and even his sarcasm. But she had been nothing to him. She had been simply an order, just another person to protect. Once that last bond was broken, he had no use for her. He had wanted to die, and she wouldn't let him.

She had given him everything and received nothing in return except for scorn and hatred. But she had expected nothing less from him. Rebecca knew him too well to think he would have responded any differently. But she'd had no clue that she would still feel this way.

But her Patronus was still a wolf. Probably because the doe was not his true Patronus' form. That was the only explanation she could come up with. And it suited her just fine. She knew that she still cared for him. But shoving it downward, farther and deeper, with each passing day seemed to be helping. Dwelling on the affection and him as little as possible was the only way she could cope.

Inevitably, she would return to England. And in order to finally alleviate herself of this problem, she would tell him the truth of what she'd done. Or hadn't done, in this case. She hadn't slept with Marcus Flint, and she understood why now. She had been denying it to herself for so long, and it made her all the more pathetic.

But he had won. He'd seen her off, and he didn't have to deal with her any longer. That was what he'd wanted.

* * *

"Weep for yourself, my man, / You'll never be what is in your heart. / Weep, little lion man, / You're not as brave as you were at the start. / Rate yourself and rake yourself, / Take all the courage you have left / Wasted on fixing all the problems / That you made in your own head…. / Tremble for yourself, my man, / You know that you have seen this all before. / Tremble, little lion man, / You'll never settle any of your scores. / Your grace is wasted in your face, / Your boldness stands alone among the wreck. / Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck. / But it was not your fault but mine. / And it was your heart on the line./ I really fucked it up this time, / Didn't I, my dear? / Didn't I, my dear?" – "Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons

_Severus, August 31, 1998_

The last day before the term began. The last day before the Great Hall was once again filled with students. And the repairs were complete. Everything looked just as it had before, with some minor improvements here and there.

Severus sat quietly at the far end of the table, trying his best to ignore his colleagues as deftly as he knew how. Their chatter was normal, what the first years would be like, how Hagrid would bring them across the lake as normal. Everything had to be normal, like nothing had occurred, though they would naturally address the war and the battle that had taken place at Hogwarts. But their ceremonies would remain the same. The Sorting Hat would be used, and they hoped it would have a pleasing song for their students.

"We'll also be dealing with those students who are returning to repeat their previous year," Minerva said.

"Yes, we will need to be sensitive to their needs as well," squeaked Flitwick.

"I say we have the Prefects and Head Girl and Boy as well as any professors available for counseling the students as necessary," Sprout said.

That called a hearty bought of nodding and general agreements.

"Forgive me, but does that not normally fall under the Head of House's duties?" Severus said, raising an eyebrow.

"Generally yes, Severus," Minerva said. "But there will be many more students who might need the assistance."

Too much coddling had never done anyone any sort of good. But Severus kept to himself. There weren't any students left who would come to him with their problems. And Slughorn was the Head of Slytherin House once more, while he was the Deputy Headmaster and Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. A preferred position, one that might keep him out of reach of the students, though he would not turn them away should they truly need help. Those who sought to use this merely as some way to get at the survivors of the war would be punished.

Dinner was then quietly eaten. Severus savored the meal, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"I've had good news," Minerva said quietly, looking mostly at Flitwick and Hagrid, who sat beside each other. It made quite the contrast.

Severus picked up his glass of wine, only interested in the mystery topic because Minerva had lowered her voice. Curiosity won.

"It appears Miss Felan is doing quite well for herself," Minerva said with a smirk. "She's obtained some sort of agreement with Potions Master Brauer and will be working with him in order to take the test for her Mastery. And she's dating several different men, it seems—muggles and wizards."

The wine glass Severus was holding shattered in his hand under his crushing grip. The wine was forced upward and downward, away from the force of his fist, covering his robes. His hand throbbed suddenly with the pain of the glass embedded in his skin. He noted that all attention had turned to him, and he cleared his throat as he retrieved his wand.

"A spasm," he said as he flourished his wand. The wine disappeared and the glass was slowly pulling from his skin. Severus raised his upper lip at the pain, but once it was all out, he Vanished the shards and healed his hand.

"Excuse me," he said, standing and leaving the table. He made his way from the Great Hall and up the stairs to his quarters, hidden behind his office and warded with as many spells as he could manage.

Once inside did he allow himself to show any sign of annoyance. Minerva had known he would listen and was trying to get a rise out of him. She was successful, and his actions had been completely reactionary, his mind having no sort of say in how tightly he was gripping the glass.

And that was the most infuriating bit, that she could still have that power over him. He no longer turned to speak to her when she was most clearly not there, did not want her attention or anyone else's any longer. He desired to be left alone, and his colleagues respected that and kept their distance. But Minerva would continue to push his buttons until one of them was dead.

And she knew exactly what button to push. Rebecca bloody Felan. Still she was in his dreams, innocuous things. They would be talking, conversing as if nothing had happened, as if she were still here.

It was he that should be preparing her for that test, not Brauer. The man was a fine brewer, and was of an age with Severus. Is that what was bothering him? That Brauer would somehow steal away the girl he'd once thought of as his protégé? Or was it the men she was supposedly seeing? How completely fucked was his mind that it would allow him to think such things?

He did not desire her. He did not want anything to do with her. But time and again he thought of her, even when he'd spoken to no one for days, when her name had not reached his ears at all.

The crazy thought of responding to her letter came to his head, but he immediately disregarded it. Potter would have told her that he had burned it with one touch, and he was not ready to reveal the secret that he'd wanted to read her letter.

He recalled how disguised it was. She still felt the same for him. And that furthered his rage even more. After speaking the way he had to her, after every word he'd said had been given time to sink in… she still cared. And that was the most perplexing of all.

"A dunderhead," he said. "Just like the rest of him."

And he pushed her from his mind once more.

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, September 2, 1998_

Rebecca,

Slughorn sent an interesting letter to my father yesterday. In it, he recounted how Severus crushed a wine glass with his bare hand after hearing the news of you dating several other men. I thought you might be interested in hearing about it.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, September 5, 1998_

Rebecca,

I realize that you might be busy, but at least let me know you're alive. Potter and the others say they haven't heard from you in a few days and they're concerned.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, September 10, 1998_

Rebecca,

If you're pissed at me, that's fine. But at least talk to Potter before he kills himself.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, September 12, 1998_

Rebecca,

If this is what I said about Severus, this is seriously an awful way to show how much you don't care.

I'm concerned. Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine, I said it. You're making me worry about you.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, September 13, 1998_

Draco,

Severus Snape can go fuck himself.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, September 14, 1998_

Rebecca,

Never mind, then. I'm sorry for bringing it up.

I hope you're doing well. You should really write to the others. Potter's been coming round to make sure I'm not lying about your lack of letters. While my parents enjoy having him here, I'm getting quite annoyed at the random dropping in.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, September 15, 1998_

Draco,

So much for your caring streak. I'm fine. Work is keeping me busy and Potions Master Brauer has me brewing whenever I'm not doing something work-related. My letters will be few, but I'll write to Harry tomorrow to stop everyone from worrying.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, September 16, 1998_

Harry,

I'm sorry if I made you all worry. I'm doing well; I just have little time to myself. When I'm not working, I'm brewing. And when I'm not doing either of those things, I'm trying to sleep. My letters may be few, but I'm always thinking of you all.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, September 17, 1998_

Rebecca,

I'm glad to finally hear from you. Thanks for letting us know about your new schedule. That'll keep everyone from having a heart attack.

Also, Draco showed me your letter about Professor Snape. Do you need to talk about anything?

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, September 18, 1998_

Harry,

I meant exactly what I said in that letter. I don't need to talk about anything.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, September 20, 1998_

Rebecca,

I wanted to see how things were with you. Harry passed along the message that you're very busy lately, so I understand if this will take you a few days to get to.

Things at Hogwarts are going well. You should see how much it has changed. Perhaps it's not actually that much, but it feels like it after having seen the same things for six years. And the things that were left the same look absolutely lovely. When you come back for a visit, whenever that may be, you'll need to come see the castle for yourself. You'll be blown away.

Classes have gone about as normal. Everyone is very much in their element, and trying to continue on as normal without denying anything that has happened. It's rather refreshing, especially after the chaos the Fudge administration caused by doing the same thing.

Most of our friends are back to repeat their years. Surprisingly, Neville's taken a job with Kingsley as an Auror. He wanted to follow his parents' footsteps. He's truly grown so much from what I remember of him.

Things are, for the most part, fairly calm right now. I hope America is calming you as much as you've claimed. Harry seems to think your letters are short because you're upset, but I told him not to worry too much.

Please know you're on our mind, Becca, even though you're not around. We aren't likely to forget you.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, September 25, 1998_

Hermione,

While I appreciate what your letter is probably attempting to do (which is digging for information in disguise of being on my side), I must ask you not do it again. I'm doing well enough, but as I've told Harry and Draco, I'm extremely busy. I apologize if I seem short, but I have much on my mind as of late and it's difficult to formulate clear thoughts on parchment sometimes.

I don't know if I will be ready to visit Hogwarts at any point in the near future. Or perhaps ever. It seems a drastic statement, but I'm still recovering from many ordeals, so it could be residual paranoia talking. We shall see. As of now, I haven't planned any visits back home. I'm needed here, as there have been some uprisings of some blokes who think themselves the next vessels for Voldemort. Bloody crazy.

That's all I can say on the matter, however. I'm sure it'll be in the papers over there soon enough. They're causing quite the annoyance.

No, I don't have time for dating right now, and I'm too frustrated to play nice with anyone at the moment, let alone the near future.

Let's hope for all of our sakes that my stress levels return to normal soon.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, September 26, 1998_

Rebecca,

I'm sorry—I should know better by now than to try and pull something so stupid on you. But you can't blame me for trying.

Thank you for opening up a bit more about what's bothering you. I know that with you leading the chase, you'll have those men apprehended in no time.

Feel better.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, September 30, 1998_

Rebecca,

Please write me back as soon as you can. We just got the news in the Prophet about your Ministry being attacked, but they're not sure of any more information. We're all glued to our radios.

Please be all right.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Severus, September 31-October 6, 1998_

All of Hogwarts seemed on edge. The uprisings in America were not what any of them needed at this point. But there were always going to be fanatics. And one of his former students was at the forefront of all of this, leading the chase against them. And she hadn't been heard from in a number of days, if his listening into Granger's quiet conversations in his class were to be believed.

But the know-it-all's hand didn't shoot up in the air nearly as quickly as it once did. She was distracted. She would be concerned for her friend. Being the Head Auror, Rebecca wouldn't be allowed to go home for quite some time, being required to sleep at the Ministry most likely. But most of the day would be spent on her feet, directing the flow of Aurors and other officials, telling people what to do and how to deal with maniacs.

Unfortunately, she had a lot of practice in those areas. She wasn't, at first glance, what someone might think of as a natural leader. But, like Potter, she had turned out that way once she had been able to grow into her personality, away from those who abused her into submission. She would be fine.

But that didn't stop him from listening to the wizarding news on radio between classes, after meals. Almost constantly, his ear, along with everyone else's in the school, was practically glued to the device. Classes were difficult to get through. Flitwick dismissed his First and Second Year students, as they above all others were having a hard time coping with the terror that plagued them. So young, so accustomed to the turmoil, but unable to deal with it appropriately, because they had not yet developed the necessary skills.

It was a few days before Hermione Granger finally asked if he would permit her to have her radio on low during class. She looked haggard, worn, as if she hadn't slept. Severus met her gaze for a long time before finally nodding subtly.

"But if I can hear it over the sound of my own voice, Miss Granger, I will take it from you for the remainder of class and dock House Points," he said sharply.

"Yes, sir," Granger said, turning the device on. In the silence, in was a droning sound. Soon, he could hear nothing from the front of the classroom. And he began his lecture, the students dutifully taking notes. Granger scribbled on the parchment before her.

Half-way through class, she let out a very sudden sob, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. The whole class turned to look at her. Severus' attention snapped to her, and he motioned upward with his hand. Granger's eyes were wide with terror and confusion.

"Turn it up, girl," Severus snapped.

Granger reached to the device, turning the volume dial all the way up. The voice that carried through the room was not familiar, as he was expecting it.

"For those just tuning in, Deputy Head Auror Jamie Turner is speaking to the crowd gathered in the lobby area of the American Ministry of Magic. He has news of the final battle that took place."

Severus stood stock still. The Deputy Head Auror. The Head Auror was always in charge of delivering the news of any such groups, of any fighting. What had happened to her?

"The man who was the ring-leader for the group called 'The Faithful Followers of the Dark Lord' has been apprehended. In a heroic display, Head Auror Rebecca Felan overpowered him while dueling several of his followers. The Head Auror is currently recovering from her ordeal in a secure location."

A pause as the shuffling of papers could be heard over the radio.

"This group has been plaguing the Washington, D.C., area for nearly a month. Their power grew slowly after the falling of You-Know-Who in May. It suddenly took a turn for the worse when the man who claimed to be possessed by the remainder of You-Know-Who's soul, Chester Blakely, made himself known to the followers of the group. With a leader to rally behind, the group gained strength. This is when they began their assault on the muggle population. When the Aurors rose up to strike them down, they would change tactics or disappear. Because of the efforts of Head Auror Felan, myself, and several of our veteran Aurors, we were able to determine when they were going to strike against the Ministry itself and were prepared for them."

A pause, then another voice spoke up.

"The Deputy Head Auror will now take a few questions."

A cacophony of noise came over the speakers of the radio.

"Deputy, can you tell us of the condition of the Head Auror?"

"I am not at liberty to release that information at this time."

More noise.

"Deputy, are there any casualties to the side of the Ministry? What about the wounded? Have their families been notified?"

A pause. "We have suffered three casualties. Besides that, ten of our Aurors were wounded. They are all currently being taken care of, and we are working on locating the next-of-kin for all thirteen Aurors."

More yelling.

"Deputy, can it yet be confirmed if this Chester Blakely is actually harboring the soul of You-Know-Who?"

"You-Know-Who was killed by Harry Potter in May." His voice was tense, short. "There is no possibility that Mr. Blakely was anything but a follower of You-Know-Who driven mad by the knowledge of his final death. One final question."

Frantic yelling, more noise.

"Deputy, can you at least confirm whether or not Head Auror Felan is living? She must have family and friends at home who are wondering."

"As I've said, I'm not at liberty to discuss anything pertaining to Head Auror Felan. Thank you for your questions, but I must excuse myself."

The radio show broadcasting the American channel faded out the noise and the commentators began to speak.

"Our hearts go out to those who are listening in for information about Rebecca Felan, war hero and spy for the Order of the Phoenix," the voice said solemnly. "We will have updates upon her condition, that of the injured American Aurors, and the leader of the group as soon as new information is obtained."

Granger was completely pale. The rest of the class was looking none the better. In the pit of his stomach, Severus could feel too many emotions at once bubbling within him. Regret, blame, shame, anger, frustration…

"Class dismissed," he barked. "You'll all be useless to me for the remaining thirty minutes. Your homework is still as it is laid out upon your syllabus, whether or not we've had the time to cover it in class."

The students hurried to get their things together, none of them speaking. But he could see it written on all of their faces: the worry, the concern, the confusion. The Dark Lord had been vanquished, but any sort of news to the contrary this close to his death was bound to scare anyone. Granger tarried, seeming uncertain on her feet. She made her way toward the front of the classroom, holding onto the radio as if it were a lifeline.

Severus watched her pass him and go out the door, where a couple of other Gryffindors were waiting to usher her off to their common room.

He retreated to his office, turning on the radio there and leaving it on. That was his last class of the day, and there would be time before dinner. But Severus did not feel particularly hungry, and professors were only required to attend one meal a day in the Great Hall. He would be surprised if he wasn't the only one not showing up to the meal.

But he needed to go, to not show concern. The chit had made her own choices, and, if the Deputy Head's tone and words were any indication, she'd done something stupid to get this wizard to submit to her. If she had come to harm because of that, it was hardly his fault.

Even if it was his fault that she had left in the first place.

His fist hit the hard wood of his desk before he knew what was happening. The nerves lit up, sending a shockwave up his arm. But Severus did not move his arm. He sat still, listening to the news station. But nothing was happening. And nothing happened for the next thirty minutes.

He prepared himself for dinner in the Great Hall. Still no news.

The Great Hall was very quiet. Murmurs passed between students at the same tables. Other students wandered from table to table, spreading words Severus could only fathom. Granger was not at the Gryffindor table.

Severus ate his food and sipped upon his wine, looking for all the world the picture of calm. Minerva leaned over to him, as he had the _pleasure_ of being seated beside her now as her Deputy Headmaster.

"Severus, while I appreciate your putting on your mask in an attempt to keep the Great Hall calm, I believe you're frightening the younger students," she said quietly.

Severus' gaze lifted, and he saw the students in question watching the staff table carefully. He softened his features minutely, and the students looked the better for it, looking away.

He rolled his eyes. "First years," he said, sighing.

"They're young, Severus," Minerva said. "Children. They're frightened, as are we all, though others of us have a difficult time admitting it."

"She has made her own bed, Minerva," Severus said, glancing at the older witch. "It is time Miss Felan learn to lie in it."

Minerva scoffed. "You cannot tell me you don't feel an ounce of fear for her, Severus," Minerva said. "I know how fiercely you protected her this past year."

"At Albus' behest."

"Albus was dead," Minerva whispered, staring at the man directly. "Dead, Severus. You cannot fool me. I have known you for too long, and I've seen you at your worst and your best. You would not wish harm upon any of your students or former students, no matter your feelings towards them."

"Be careful, Minerva," Severus said, voice smooth. "You're frightening the younger students."

Minerva's lips tightened into a line so thin they almost disappeared entirely. Severus stood and left the Great Hall, returning to his office where papers awaited him from the third years.

The night proved longer than he imagined. His radio droned on in the background. There wasn't more information to be had. Washington was five hours ahead of their time, which meant it had been about nine-thirty when the report had come on over the radio. It was now nearing elven-thirty here. There was likely going to be no news until the early hours of the morning there, which meant very late at night here.

Severus graded diligently, trying not to let the radio distract him. Or his stray thoughts, wondering about her and her safety. If he had not said those things. If he had written back in response to her letter. What would have happened then? Would he still feel the same sense of misery every time he recalled her to mind?

The last essay was on the opposite side of his desk. Severus reached for the next one, but his hand fell upon an empty desk. He set down his raven-feather quill and looked long at it, recalling when she had given it to him. Why did he even still use it? The clock upon the wall behind him chimed three in the morning, and Severus wondered where the time had gone, and also how leniently he had graded those particular essays.

The radio beeped repeatedly and loudly, and Severus eyes darted so that it came into view.

"The American Ministry is about to address the wizarding world. It's seven a.m. in Washington, D.C., and there has been no news from the Ministry for nearly ten hours. Their representative is taking the stage now."

They switched the stations, and there was a silence like Severus had never heard on the radio before.

"Good morning to those in the States and good afternoon and evening to those in the rest of the world listening in."

Her voice, floating through the room. It reached his ears, and a calm spread through him.

"I'd like to apologize for the secrecy up until this point, particularly to my family and friends back home in England who are not going to be very happy with me."

Tense laughter from the crowd.

"But I would like to say that I'm doing well."

Her voice wavered only slightly on that statement, but Severus knew what it was. A lie. She was injured, but obviously not badly enough to keep her from the public. Already, America loved her as Britain had grown to love their war hero: friend of Harry Potter, spy for the Order, and pretty, young Slytherin with the heart of a Gryffindor. A perfect poster child. And Rebecca ever knew how to play the role she'd been given.

"I have been questioning the leader of The Faithful Followers of the Dark Lord all night. I would like to comfort the wizarding world as a whole that Chester Blakely does not currently, nor never had, the Dark Lord in residence inside his person."

She had to pause for the round of applause and cheers that broke through the crowd listening.

"The other followers have been taken into custody by my Aurors," she continued once the noise had settled down. "And we are currently questioning each of them to find out if there are more followers, more groups like them. As the information comes, I or my Deputy will pass it along. The wizarding world can rest easy once more."

Massive applause. Severus could practically picture her, looking tired, trying to feign her well-being, but hiding some sort of wound until she was out of sight of cameras, radios, and other people. He closed his eyes, picturing her. She spoke up at that point, and her mouth in his mind moved along with the words.

"I would like to personally apologize to the wizarding world for not having these criminals and chaos-creators in custody sooner, but it was difficult to deal with a problem of this magnitude with as little casualties as possible on either side. Those who gave their lives for their Ministry or who were wounded in combat will receive medals, to be announced at a later time."

There was a pause as she seemed to catch her breath.

"For now, I'm very tired and I need my rest. No questions, please."

The radio program faded out the cries for her attention. But Severus shut the device off with a flick of his hand, eyes still closed.

She was alive, but not well. She had been hurt somehow, but that was likely not going to be revealed to the media. Granger was likely to know, but wouldn't share with just anyone. His curiosity burned.

He didn't realize he was asleep until she appeared before him, wearing her brown silk dress. The same one she'd worn at his birthday celebration, if one could even call it that. It fit her well, this dress. Complemented her curves without revealing too much. Here, she didn't look uncomfortable, not as she had whenever she wore something like it. Her scars did not bother her.

Severus knew at any point he could stop the dream, but he let it continue. This was different from her in his previous dreams. Before, they would be talking. Now, the dream Severus opened his mouth to speak, but she did not allow him to.

She kissed him, pulling his mouth down to meet hers. And the dream Severus succumbed to her, pulling her flat against him and burying his hands in her hair.

Severus forced his eyes open, ending the dream. He still sat in his chair, the Third Year essays before him on his desk. And a rage built up within him. His dreams had transformed her into some sort of sexualized being. And that was never his intention, to see her in that light. She had been a student, someone under his protection, and he had failed so many ways in that regard.

Now, she was out of his hands. She was on her own completely. She was surviving, thriving in certain ways. But he knew that she was not as well as she wanted the rest of the world to think. Her letter, her voice upon the radio, it all pointed to these things. If people only knew what to look for.

But this was not his concern. She was none of his concern anymore. And he wanted nothing to do with her, he reminded himself. He didn't even want to be alive when she had saved him.

Severus stood from his chair, his left side somewhat stiff from his slumber. He stretched his leg before limping his way to his quarters, to prepare himself for what sleep he could get before his morning class.

* * *

"But tell me now where was my fault / in loving you with my whole heart? / Oh, tell me now where was my fault / in loving you with my whole heart? / Her white blank page / and a swelling rage, rage. / You did not think when you sent me to the brink, to the brink. / You desired my attention, but denied my affections, my affections. / So tell me now where was my fault / in loving you with my whole heart? / Oh, tell me now where was my fault / in loving you with my whole heart?" – "White Blank Page" by Mumford & Son

_Rebecca, October 7, 1998_

The past nine days had been very difficult. The first attack on the American Ministry had come without any warning, and they had been completely unprepared. During this initial attack by the opposing group, the Ministry had a few officials wounded, and one dead Auror. A new recruit, who had thought he could overtake a majority of the offending group without waiting for backup. It had been a bold move, and he had been successful in Stunning a few of his opponents. But they were aiming to kill, whereas the Aurors were not.

That was when Rebecca had first become shaken: looking down at the young man who'd died because of their ineptitude, because they hadn't been thinking that The Faithful Followers of the Dark Lord had the manpower to pull a stunt like this. She had nearly broken down there, but led the assault against their attackers after pulling herself together, slipping once more into the spy mask that she had hoped could have been put away once the war was over.

With the recruits that were there and very few of the veteran Aurors, who were away on business at the time, they pushed back the group and took captive a few of those they'd managed to Stun. Rebecca had all ten lined up in a room together with her and her Deputy Head Jamie Turner. She had Jaime hold each captive's head still and keep their eyes open so she could look into their minds. This was more difficult than she anticipated. She hadn't practiced since she'd been taught, so the first captive was slow-going. He had defenses, though nothing so particular as full-fledged Occlumency. After that, it became somewhat easier, but she tired quickly.

But she ascertained their numbers. Hundreds, maybe nearly three hundred. Much larger than they had anticipated. And their hideout was underground, a forgotten part of the Smithsonian—a basement of some kind. She could see it in her mind, taken from theirs.

She called her veteran Aurors to her and told them her plan. Many were against it, but it was the only hope they had. Rebecca transfigured her features, changing her outer appearance into an entirely different race, gender, height, and weight, matching almost exactly one of their captives. Next, Rebecca chose a new recruit to pretend to be her. The young woman was nervous and tried to refuse, but Rebecca stopped her.

"You're the only one who has the aptitude for acting," she said quietly. "They will not notice your disappearance as much as they would a higher-ranking official. They'll think they've injured you. If you do this, I'll promote you immediately upon my return. You proved yourself during the attack, and you will completely pass your other tests anyway if you can do this."

The young woman, Brianne, who reminded Rebecca vaguely of Tonks, finally agreed. Rebecca watched her transfiguration process and gave her pointers on how to replicate the scars. The Dark Mark could not be replicated, so she was ordered to wear long sleeves no matter what.

And then Rebecca had gone under cover with the group, The Faithful Followers of the Dark Lord. She had glimpsed into this man's head longer than most, so it was easy to pick up on his speech, his mannerisms, and his body language habits. More importantly, she had kept company with fanatics for the whole previous year—acting like them was not much of a stretch.

This man was important enough to the group that Rebecca was sent out on a mission to scout the Ministry by herself. When she returned, she had them convinced that it would be practically empty and for the taking on the night of the fifth. Their leader, Chester Blakely, was a good reader of people, but he was no Legilimens. He believed her, and set the date. On her next mission alone, Rebecca entered the Ministry and warned her counterparts and gave them time to plan.

Before the attack that night, she was put on duty at the front. Rebecca stole into the Ministry and transfigured herself back to normal in time for the battle. Brianne she forced to change back.

"You won't be hurt in battle because they think you're me," Rebecca had said sternly.

The look she gave the girl was enough to get her to hop to transfiguring herself back hurriedly.

The battle had been nearly as chaotic as the one in Hogwarts. So fresh from that battle, Rebecca felt her movements smoothing out, becoming fluid, flowing into one another. The other Aurors held their own formidably, but no opponent could stand against Rebecca for long at all. These were not the trained, powerful Death Eaters she was used to.

Finally, Chester Blakely entered the fray, his officers surrounding him. He began firing off spells without regard to what they were or where he was shooting them. Rebecca rushed forward to end things, regardless of her own safety. Only now that things were over did she realize that at that moment, she didn't care if she was putting her life in jeopardy.

She had been tired, in need of sleep, but she hadn't felt so focused in months as when the four officers stepped forward to intercept her. Her robes flew behind her as her wand thrust forward again and again, Disarming two, Stunning another, and Binding the fourth. By the time she'd finally turned to Blakely, he had his wand up and pointed. She pushed out her Shield Charm as she approached him.

He was a better duelist than most she had encountered with the group, but he was not the best. He let Rebecca get too close. She ended it not with magic. Her focus was lost, her hair wild, and her mind too tired. So she lifted her arm and, unexpectedly, punched him hard enough in the face that he fell, nose bloodied, to the ground with a hard "thunk!"

As she swayed on the spot, but maintained her footing long enough to realize that she was bleeding from a couple of places where spells had scratched her skin on their way past. Her legs were unsteady because a weak jinx had hit her, and perhaps her knee may have been injured somewhere along the way.

Jamie was by her side within a few moments, having been behind her. Other Aurors were flooding around her, binding the remaining Followers and beginning to cart them off. Someone made to do the same with Blakely. Rebecca pointed at him, pushing Jamie off, not needing to be touched right now on top of everything else.

"He's mine," she said, her voice stern.

Gregory immediately took his hands off Blakely.

"Miss Tate!" Rebecca yelled.

"Here, Miss Felan!" Brianne's voice called from somewhere behind her.

"You were successful in impersonating me," Rebecca said, turning to look at the young woman. "You've been promoted, as promised. Now help the others clean this up. We'll get you the regular Auror robes tomorrow."

Brianne looked very proud of herself, smiling for all she was worth while helping the others clean everything up and get everyone under control.

Rebecca and Jamie took the Stunned Blakely into an interrogation room, where Rebecca had to work to break down his defenses. His Occlumency was fairly average, but his will was strong. It took her the majority of the night, but she finally broke through to find he didn't have the Dark Lord inside of him. And then she let her mind rest for a moment.

She was in her flat now, alone. Minister Smith had sent her home for two days' rest. Rebecca had had her wounds attended to after speaking to the press and not a moment sooner. The mediwitch had berated her for waiting to attend to herself for so long, but Rebecca didn't hear her.

She sat on her couch, staring at the blank screen of the telly. She didn't want to turn it on, not wanting the noise. Everything seemed to go at a much slower pace, now that she was no longer in a battle. And she kept returning to the moment of realization, when she knew she didn't care if she died or not. Was this depression? Was it what Mr. Able had said, the post-traumatic stress disorder? Perhaps a combination. At the moment, she felt apathetic to it all.

America had accepted her with open arms, the wizarding public glad of her arrival to help sort out the leaderless Aurors and take down the groups still around, wanting to praise the Dark Lord. Her station was solidified, and she would be surprised if she got any rest after this. But she didn't want the rest. She wanted to fill her mind up with as many things as possible. But mostly, she was just angry.

She could still feel it pulling upon her in battle, harnessing the rage she felt almost constantly about everything pushing her forward, helping her get through her weary state. She pushed her magic farther, her body more. And at some moments, it was hard not to relive how she'd felt. Overall, she had been scared. So utterly frightened, except for that one moment of acceptance. This thought of accepting death so easily scared her even more.

For the thousandth time, Rebecca wondered what she'd been thinking when she accepted this job.

But it was time to prepare herself for her yoga class. After that, it was meditation. The next night it would be karate. And then her routine would reinstate itself. Work, brewing, and whatever class or workout regimen she had designed for that day. And hopefully it would fill her mind.

But she couldn't help but think of him still. Certainly he had known how she'd felt. At some point, she had even thought he might return the feelings, even if it was only in part. Those memories were easy to recall. He had a capacity for kindness, but did not wish to allow many to see it. But all kindness had been set aside in his last words to her. Still, he had returned to see her on her last night in England. To taunt her? Probably. And she had sent that letter to him, thinking what?

There was no use in trying to think on him anymore. It simply made her feel the anger building up inside of her once more.

She pushed Severus Snape to the farthest recesses of her mind that she could manage, shutting him up inside of a box. He had made her what she was, in many respects: spy, duelist, Occlumens, and Legilimens. But those were simply titles. That was not who she was entirely. Perhaps that was what he had forgotten along the way, but Rebecca was not about to let herself forget that. So she would think no more of him in the hopes that her anger would subside.

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, Ron, Hermione, & Draco, October 8, 1998_

All,

Again, I've copied this letter for the sake of brevity.

I'm sorry that I had to drop off the grid for so long. I was the only one who could do the mission that was required to get this group to come into the Ministry so that we could be prepared. Surely you'll all work out what that means, knowing my past. I'm sorry if I worried any of you, but I had to do what needed to be done. As a result… well, you all know the results.

Physically, I'm fine. Perhaps a few more scars here and there, but nothing serious. I'll need to work out my knee injury, and after a couple of weeks that should be back to normal.

Mentally, I'll recover. Being back in battle is not a fun experience, especially after being without it for only a couple of months. But I'm fine and I'll continue to do my work just as well as I've done it up until this point.

I'm personally regretful of the people under my care who gave their lives or were injured. That's all I'll say on the subject, as I'm not ready to talk about it just yet, so please don't ask.

Please feel free to write me in return. I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, October 9, 1998_

Becca,

Thank Merlin you're all right! You had us all worried sick. But I do understand what you're saying you had to do, and I'm sorry you had to go through with it. I know it's something you were trying to get away from here. I hope you won't have to do it again.

From everyone at the Burrow, we wish you a safe recovery period. We're sure you taught anyone who thought to rise against the Ministry a thing or two.

Love,

Harry, Remus, & the Weasleys

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, October 10, 1998_

Rebecca,

If you were here, I'd hug you. As it stands, you have this letter that may or may not have been held desperately in my grasp. Obviously, you'll wish to lean more on the side of not.

We all worried for your safety. All of us over here were afraid that he had actually come back. I'm glad you stayed with Blakely to find out whether or not the Dark Lord was a part of him. And yes, I got that from the little your letter said, and also from the fact that you didn't emerge for nearly nine hours. I can put two and two together—I am a Slytherin still, for Merlin's sake. Let the rest of the world live in daftness.

Mother and Father send their love and hopes for a speedy recovery to you. And I suppose I do too.

Also, before you hear it from Potter or anyone else who might blow it out to insufferable proportions, I'm going with Astoria Greengrass to her Hogsmeade trip later this month.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, October 12, 1998_

Harry & Co.,

Thank you for the well-wishes. Things have been very quiet, but we're being much more vigilant than we were prior to all of the recent events. I'd like to think Alastor would be proud of the constant-ness of it. Come to think of it, whatever happened to his wand?

Has Andromeda been able to get all of the repairs made that she needed to? I hope her home is habitable sooner rather than later.

On a different note, I suspect Halloween to be interesting this year. I'm going to a work party. Wish me luck.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, October 13, 1998_

Draco,

Your arrogance and Slytherin smugness are noted and missed. I love you, too.

Please tell your parents I'm doing well on my recovery. My knee should be back to mostly normal function faster than I anticipated.

And Astoria Greengrass? Like them a bit younger now, Draco? Well, if I remember correctly, I'm sure she'll be of-age soon enough. If you don't mind my asking (and even if you do), what struck you to begin trying to court the young Miss Greengrass?

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, October 14, 1998_

Becca,

Andromeda's house is coming along well. They should have it done quite soon, she says. And she also sends her thanks once more for all your help in that regard.

I still have Alastor's wand, thankfully, and I've enclosed it for you. Like I said before, I think he'd want you to have it more than me, anyway. It served me well this past year after my wand broke.

And a Halloween party? I'm sure that should be fun. We're having one too—the Ministry, that is, for all its employees. I'll miss the feast at Hogwarts, though.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, October 15, 1998_

Rebecca,

Don't get all sappy on me, Felan. It's most unbecoming of Slytherins such as ourselves.

As for Astoria, we always have spoken to one another at gatherings and such—pureblood parties or whatnot that will most likely not take place anymore, thankfully. She's smart, witty, and funny and I enjoy her company. She's definitely less clingy that Pansy and more in-line with my thinking than some of the other Slytherins that we went to school with. That's why, since you've so boldly asked though it wasn't your place.

Whatever happened to that solicitor, anyway?

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, October 16, 1998_

Harry,

I'll miss the feasts, too. And I'm hoping this party will be fun. I told Minister Smith at least not to make it a masquerade and save me a heart-attack. We're not allowing masks, which I'm hopeful is something everyone will adhere to. I can't wait for the moron that tries to get in with a Death Eater mask because he thought it was funny. I'll hex him myself.

Thank you for Alastor's wand. I'll keep it in my nightstand, as he would've wanted it. Constantly vigilance and all that. I'll try it a bit later and see how it responds to me.

I'm glad to hear Andromeda's house is coming along well. I hope she has no trouble moving back in.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, October 17, 1998_

Draco,

I'll get as sappy as I want. I nearly died, you ass. Give me some leniency.

I hope you and Astoria have fun. You should definitely dish when you get back, though. I won't feel as though we're proper girlfriends until that happens.

As for the solicitor, I've seen him on occasion on the Metro (travel system in D.C.—think electric train… electricity meaning… Damn it, go look it up or ask Hermione). But I've kept my distance until he finally approached me when I was getting off one day. I told him in no uncertain terms that I'm not interested in dating anyone, much less him, and that he shouldn't take it personally. Luckily for me, I seem to be particularly frightening when I'm stressed and angry, so he took the hint. Honestly, he was ungodly polite and nice. It was unnerving.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, October 18, 1998_

Rebecca,

Seemed to have developed an affection for witty, sarcastic assholes, I see.

We'll never be proper girlfriends until you can learn to joke about it, Felan, so humour me.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, October 19, 1998_

Draco,

I'll humour you with your jokes, but I won't participate.

Have you gone on that Hogsmeade trip yet? I seem to remember they're around this point in the year.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, October 20, 1998_

Rebecca,

Just returned from Hogsmeade. The weather's getting cold enough for snow, but it's more in that irritating phase of just being bloody cold and windy for now rather than giving off much of a Yule spirit.

Astoria's been reading up on muggle culture, and she told me the Americans have a celebration for their country's founding that involves over-eating and drunkenness. Please let me know if you participate, it sounds like wonderful Yankee fun. You also never told me all about how they celebrate their freedom by trying to blow themselves up with colorful explosions. You've been remiss in your duties to culturally educate me like you promised.

We also had a lovely time. Until you tell me more about these delightful celebrations, you'll get no more information.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, October 22, 1998_

Draco,

The celebration with the explosions you're referring to is the fourth of July, or Independence Day as it's known here. There's apparently a popular movie about it made a few years ago that involves the Americans saving the world from aliens. Because we all know that would happen. I seem to recall the Brits just saved the whole world from a crazed maniac not a few months ago, but you don't see a film on that. The celebration also involves a lot of drinking. The fireworks, as the explosions are called, if done by professionals, are actually quite beautiful. I managed to take some pictures of them, which I've enclosed.

The other holiday you're talking about is Thanksgiving. It's supposed to celebrate the coming together of the Pilgrims (the muggles who first landed here) and the Native Americans. All I remember the Pilgrims doing is giving the Native Americans smallpox and taking away their land. It's now evolved into some sort of celebration where everyone takes off work and hangs round with their families (whom they all hate), which means they have to put themselves into a comatose state with excessive eating and drinking in order to make the situation tolerable. At least that's the gist I've gotten out of it.

Americans really are amusing.

Now dish, girlfriend.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, October 23, 1998_

Rebecca,

Astoria and I had a lovely time. I think I'm actually beginning to quite like her. Potter suggested I invite her on an outing we were planning on taking in a couple of weekends to watch a Quidditch match. I posed it to her, and she accepted. We'll be watching Flint's team if you'd like me to tell him hello from you?

So, yes, she'll probably be a permanent fixture for the foreseeable future. We haven't made any stupid plans about once she gets out of Hogwarts or even what will happen after the next couple of months. We're seeing where things are headed. There doesn't seem to be a rush anymore, you know?

I think I'll have to visit America one day to see these lovely sights. Let me know what other holidays they turn into an excuse for drinking.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, October 24, 1998_

Draco,

I do believe you got serious on me for a while there. It was frightening—please don't do it again without prior warning.

In any case, I'm glad to hear things are working out with Astoria.

Also, they will have any excuse for drinking, I've discovered. But it's not unlike us, I suppose. Though I never quite got into alcohol too much.

Please tell Marcus I said hello, and that I hope he's doing well.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, October 25, 1998_

Rebecca,

I wanted to send you a letter to see how things were going. I won't repeat what others have said about this month's earlier ordeal. That part is done for.

How has your work been going with the Potions Master? I'm sure it's well, knowing your proficiency, but you'll have to forgive my curiosity.

Things have gone pretty much back to normal around Hogwarts. Everyone was really frightened for a while—you could almost see it hanging in the air like a cloud. McGonagall did her best to keep everyone calm, but you could tell she was worried, too.

Professor Snape even let me listen to the radio in class. I know I shouldn't mention him, but it was so out of character that I can't help myself.

In any case, I hope things are going more smoothly for you now that the Faithful Followers are out of the way and in whatever the equivalent to Azkaban is in America.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, October 26, 1998_

Hermione,

I'm sorry to hear Hogwarts was in such a state. Hopefully nothing will put them in such another one any time soon. All of the groups seem to have backed off for the most part, so I'm hopeful they'll disband and just give it a rest.

My brewing has been going well. We've almost gotten my potion patented. I just have to go to a few more meetings and then sign a few pieces of paper, and then I can begin to market it. He's going to help me in making sure I get at least 60% of the proceeds from each sale, considering it's the first of its kind.

It is quite out of character, but I wouldn't think too much about it. He has a general capacity for caring, but has difficulty showing it.

Things are going more smoothly. I've gained much respect since capturing Blakely and getting the information I needed from him using the powers that I have. Legilimency is still frowned upon, but not if you're using it appropriately, I suppose. The Minister is still more likely to have everyone thinking I tortured the information from Blakely instead of letting the whole world know I have Legilimency. At this point, I think it matters little who knows about it, but Ministers enjoy trying to play a game they're inadequately prepared for.

I hope things are going well for you. I'm sure your studies are well.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, October 26, 1998_

Harry,

I tried out Alastor's wand tonight, as I remembered that I hadn't. I cast a simple Shield Charm, and I set of my flat's smoke detector since it created the largest puff of smoke I've ever seen. I used my wand to dispel the smoke, then sat to think about how to get the wand to realize I was a friend of its former master.

Did it give you such trouble?

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, October 27, 1998_

Becca,

The wand is a bit strange, like Moody was. It wouldn't work properly for me at first, either. I tried a couple of different things at first, like Disarming Hermione with it with her wand, but nothing really seemed to work until I started talking about Moody. Then it worked. I'm sure Ollivander has some sort of explanation about it, but I just think wands are weird and a lot more sentient than we give them credit for, especially considering how old some of them must be, like the Elder Wand.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, October 28, 1998_

Harry,

I told the wand about the night Alastor died, and all that he did to train me, even the bad parts. It works for me now. Thank you for the advice.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Ron to Rebecca, October 29, 1998_

Becca,

Glad to hear you're doing all right. You had me scared for a while. I know you've heard that a lot, but I need to say it too. I know I don't write a lot—you know my skill and patience for it. But I wanted you to know that I still think about you and I do care like you're another sister of mine.

Becca, I wanted to write and tell you, coz I've been talking with Harry about this and I need a female's opinion too. I know you won't tell, coz this is important. I'm gonna ask 'mione to marry me.

I have the ring, but I need to plan the perfect event for it. I'm obviously not thinking Halloween—I'm dumb sometimes, but not that daft. So, in your opinion as a girl, what would sweep you off your feet?

Ron

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Ron, October 30, 1998_

Ron,

I don't think you have any idea how much your letter made my day when I read it. I'll be glad to help.

Hermione and I are of a similar nature, so this shouldn't be too difficult. Just be yourself, Ron. She really does love you. It's been fairly evident since that whole debacle with Lavender, and maybe even before that. Take her somewhere nice that you know she likes. Even if it's just a picnic with the two of you with a nice view. Be sincere. I know you can be. Don't hold anything back. Girls are suckers for emotional tripe—trust me. It's not just nonsense to us like how you blokes see it. Tell her why you love her, when you realized it, how you want to spend the rest of your life together, etc.

Up until that point, try not to let on what's happening. Act normally. Look to Harry for some acting tips. No offense, but you're horrid at playing any other emotion besides angry very convincingly.

And, naturally, tell me how it went afterward.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Ron to Rebecca, October 30, 1998_

Becca,

Will do. I have some ideas now, and I'll even write things down so I have a speech, but I'll put them where she can't find them. Thanks so much for your help. You're the best!

Love,

Ron

* * *

_Rebecca, October 31, 1998_

She checked herself one last time in the mirror before leaving her flat. This was the only thing that came to mind when she thought of a Halloween costume. Hopefully, it would go over well. She'd picked a well-known figure muggle figure, but the wizarding community here seemed a bit more in-touch with muggle things in general than the British wizards and witches.

The blue dress she'd made a bit more modern, so as not to be completely outrageous. Her hair she left down, curling it slightly at the ends. Her wand she kept out, and could keep out even in the sight of muggles. The shoes were flats, black. If anything were to happen, she didn't want to be stuck in heels and fighting to get them off.

She strode out of her flat. It was the best she could do anymore, and she'd always liked the movie when she was growing up, even if now it seemed a bit childish. She made it to the Ministry without a moment to spare. The party was just starting.

Crowds were not her thing. And Rebecca couldn't help be reminded of this constantly as she made her way to Minister Smith to check in. Occasional bumps, unmeant but persistent, were obnoxious to most, but Rebecca didn't know many of these people well, and she worried how long she would be all right in the room with so many and so close together. Finally, the Minister came into view on his somewhat raised platform. Rebecca stepped onto it beside him, and he raised his eyebrow slightly as he took her in.

"Glinda?" he asked.

Rebecca shrugged. "Well, I thought it was funny."

Minister Smith smiled. "She does have red hair. A good choice. Most should understand and get a good laugh from it." He looked out over the slowly forming crowd. "How are the men at the door?"

"Doing their jobs," Rebecca said. "Making people take off their masks, making sure to check identities. There shouldn't be a problem."

"Very good," Minister Smith said. He turned to face her once more. "Try to have some fun tonight, Rebecca. There shouldn't be any cause otherwise."

"I'll do my best, sir," Rebecca said with a slight nod in his direction. "Let me know if you need me for anything."

She stepped off the platform and made her way toward the refreshment table to get a drink before it became too swarmed with people. While waiting for her elderflower wine, Jamie Turner approached.

"You make a good Glinda," he said, smirking. He turned to the bartender. "A brandy, please."

"Thanks," Rebecca answered, looking him over. "d'Artagnan?"

The bartender handed her the glass of wine. Rebecca took it with thanks.

"You're probably going to be the only one who gets it right," Jamie replied. "They all see the hat and think Musketeer, but they're only half-right."

"Well, there is only one of you," Rebecca said.

Jamie accepted his drink from the bartender as well. They turned from the table and made their way quickly from it, standing near a wall. Rebecca was the first to put her back to it. Jamie was more comfortable with his environment and stood in front of her and slightly to one side, giving her a good three feet between them and also a clear view of what was behind him.

"Why Glinda?" he asked.

"Only famous witch I could think of with red hair."

"I'd say you're pretty famous now."

"Because it wouldn't be arrogant showing up as myself."

"A good point," Jamie said, taking a sip. "If I may be frank—"

"You know I appreciate your frankness," Rebecca said, glancing at him once pointedly before scanning the room again.

"I wasn't sure of what to think when the Minister first told me you would be taking over as the Head Auror," he said. His words were careful and measured, not at all rushed.

Rebecca pushed her attention back to him. "I can't blame you. I'm younger than you and haven't held a job before. What could you have thought other than I'd be usurping or awful?"

Jamie shrugged apologetically, but pressed forward. "But now that I've gotten a chance to know you, to watch you in action, I understand why you earned the respect of someone like Alastor Moody."

"Just like you'll understand that his name still brings up certain memories I'd rather not think about when I've been ordered to have a good time by the Minister."

"I do understand, and I do have a point," Jamie said. "The previous Head Auror, he was very well and good, but I don't think he would have handled things as you have. Effectively, efficient. You knew what needed to be done, and you weren't going to risk anyone other than yourself. It's admirable."

"I appreciate the sentiment," Rebecca said. "But it was a logical decision. I'm the only one with any real spy training, and I'm one of the better ones at transfiguration. There wasn't time to brew, or I would've made a Polyjuice."

Jamie paused, looking down at her from his vantage height of a few inches. "What I'm trying to say is that you've done well. Better than I could've hoped for, really. Even if you don't feel like the Aurors are behind you, they are."

Rebecca gave a short-lived smile. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Speaking of, I want Tate to have more time with the Transfiguration expert. I think she'll make a good spy should we have need of one."

"I'll make sure that happens, but let's not talk about work lest someone overhear us and try to invite us to dance to make us stop?" Jamie said.

The music had already started, and the center of the room was covered with Ministry employees in their Halloween finery: devils, literary figures, magical creatures of all kinds, and other, more muggle standards were seen everywhere. Thankfully, no masks.

Rebecca gave half a sneer. "A good point. Not much of a dancer?"

"I think our feelings of the action are mutual," he said.

"And the women here wonder why you don't have a girlfriend," Rebecca muttered into her glass, taking a sip.

He raised an eyebrow at her. Rebecca returned the look.

"Because you don't know what they say," she told him with a roll of her eyes.

"Just like quite a few recruits had their eyes on you the first few weeks after your arrival," Jamie said. "Unfortunately, I can't adopt a similar method of removing unwanted attention."

"Well, dueling everyone was the only thing that came to mind."

"Bloody fantastic duels," Jamie said.

"You were smart to not challenge me."

"I didn't make Deputy Head because of my looks," he answered simply.

Rebecca snorted.

"Merlin, people will think we're flirting," he said, moving to stand beside her.

"Because there are so many people watching us and not concerned with getting some themselves," Rebecca said.

"I'm also surprised—apologies in advance—that you're not among the younger crowd attempting to do the same."

"You sound like an old man," Rebecca said. "What are you, twenty-five? Come off it."

"I've heard rumors as to why you came here."

"Just that. Rumors," Rebecca said sternly before taking another sip of the wine. The flavor was indeed a bit wood-ish, but it was made from elm. It had a sweet aftertaste, something more enjoyable than other alcohols.

"I think that we're more alike than most people would initially think," he said. "That's why we get along well, and why you trust me."

"I had to trust you the moment I met you," Rebecca said. "You're my Deputy Head Auror. That trust needed to be implicit."

"Naturally," he said. "I feel as though we could be friends. Unlike others, I respect boundaries, and I understand you do as well."

Rebecca gave him a long look, watching the expression change upon his face. He was sincere, and he wasn't trying to pry. Once again, he was trying to make a point.

"Friends, indeed," Rebecca said, letting herself relax a bit before draining what was left in her glass. The bartender had only filled it up half-way, probably a technique to make the drinkers think they had imbibed more than they actually had, or to get people to continuously make their way toward the refreshments.

"I'll take that for a yes."

"Take it however you wish, Jamie," Rebecca said. "If you understand boundaries as well as you say that you do, you'll understand me better than most."

Jamie didn't respond, instead choosing to watch the crowd for a while. They remained in amiable silence. His brown hair— shaggy and cut a medium-short length, bangs having a tendency to get in his eyes if he wasn't careful—was swept back tonight, giving him a dashing, Musketeer-esque appearance. His blues eyes scanned the crowd, ever-watching for danger.

"I'm twenty-six," he said suddenly. "Which is eight years your senior."

"And yet you talk of being friends," Rebecca said.

"You were friends with Albus Dumbledore. Alastor Moody. Your professors are now your friends."

"Then why the need to express the age distinction?"

Jamie was quiet once more. "Perhaps to remind myself. The fact that you're so young still impresses a good many people, myself included."

"Not having much chance at a childhood certainly does things to people," Rebecca muttered.

There was a slight pause in the conversation.

He held out a hand. "I'll get you another wine," he said. "I'm in need of more brandy to make watching everyone else tolerable, I think."

"Sure," Rebecca said, handing over her glass. "Thank you."

He nodded, turning to make his way through the crowd and toward the refreshments once more. Rebecca watched him go, considering his words further. If he was attracted to her, he certainly could have been more persuasive or given more hints. But she didn't really sense that. Thinking back, he had never been social, much like her. Perhaps he really was looking for a friend. Merlin knew she could use someone to talk to occasionally.

A flash of white in the crowd caught her attention. Her head snapped forward to see more clearly. A mask. Black robes, white mask. Darkened eye covers. That was all she could make out, but it was all the confirmation she needed.

The crowd seemed to part for the masked person under the robes. Rebecca felt her blood running cold as she watched the person slip through the crowd. There wasn't a clear shot. She had nothing.

"Rebecca."

She jumped, turning to face Jamie once again, who was holding out a glass to her.

"What's the matter?" he asked, setting them down on the high-top table near them.

"Death Eater."

Without another word, he pulled his wand from his costume. He nodded and went back the way he had come. Rebecca moved toward the crowd, where she'd last seen the masked person.

She traced the mask's steps through the crowd, barely able to make it through. She could feel her panic setting in, and did her best to clear her mind, to focus. When she reached the outer corners of the dance floor, she felt something brush against her shoulder. Without thinking, she whirled around, the Death Eater mask dancing before her.

Rebecca could already hear the cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange, the snarls of Greyback, and the awful sounds of torture. With a swipe of her wand, the ground exploded about the Death Eater, sending him flying and screaming across the room. The room went shockingly quite as she approached the fallen Death Eater, intent to harm upon her face.

Jamie was running across the room, calling for her. The Minister was also barking orders for others to get to their senses.

Rebecca approached the Death Eater, wand pointed directly at the mask covering his face. Hands grasped her shoulders, and she turned upon Jamie, wand at his throat. He took his hands from her and kept them open.

"Rebecca, it's me," he said. "Stop. He's just wearing a Guy Fawkes mask."

She had immediately taken her wand from his neck at the sight of him, but blinked at his words. It had been a Death Eater's mask just moments ago. He had to be mistaken. It was a Death Eater.

Slowly, Rebecca turned to face the man lying on the ground. He'd taken off his mask.

"Taylor," she said.

"Taylor," Jamie repeated, stepping forward, "give me your mask."

Jamie took it from the man on the ground, who looked no worse for wear, except maybe a bit sore from the fall he took. The Deputy Head Auror turned the mask to face Rebecca.

"Guy Fawkes," she said. "Taylor, I'm sorry, I didn't see what type of mask it was—"

"It doesn't matter," Jamie said. "Taylor, the Minister gave an order against wearing any masks at the event. Get up, we're going to see him."

Jamie reached forward and took the man by the shoulders, dragging him up. He looked back to Rebecca.

"I'll take you home," he said. "You're too shaken up to Apparate."

Rebecca nodded vaguely in his direction, putting her wand away in the bag she carried with her everywhere. The gift from Hermione. She moved to the nearest wall, put her back to it. A couple of Ministry employees repaired the hole in the floor, and the music was swiftly turned back on. People started to ignore her again, but those who weren't busy dancing watched her warily, as if she might explode, too.

She didn't know how long it was before Jamie returned to her. "The Minister told me to take you home," he said. "And you can have the next two days off, if you need."

"Just get me home," she said quietly, arms crossed over her chest as she began walking toward the exit.

He followed her closely. Once they were outside, in an alleyway away from prying muggle eyes, he stepped toward her.

"You're going to side-along with me," he said. "Take my hand."

He held it out, waiting. Finally, Rebecca put her hand in his. After that, he wasted no time Apparating to the alley beside her flat, probably relying on a picture or the memories of visiting the previous Head Auror there. She let go of his hand, walking to the front of the building. He followed behind her quietly as she got out her key. After a quiet trip through the building and up two flights of stairs, he waited patiently as Rebecca opened her door. When they were inside, he stepped further in, looking everything over as she warded the door. She didn't want to turn around, not to face the disapproving look that was certain to be there. Rebecca rested her forehead against the cool wood of the door.

"You're not well, are you, Felan?"

Rebecca closed her eyes. "No, I'm not."

"You've seen someone about this?"

"Yes. It didn't help."

"Well, if the Minister doesn't know about it, he certainly does now," Jamie said with a sigh.

It grew silent once more.

"So are you going to stand there all night?"

"I'm hoping that I can somehow become one with this door without the use of my wand," Rebecca muttered.

A sigh. "You're cracking jokes and have your back to me. You can't be that bad off."

"Jokes are my defense mechanism and I have my back to you because I know that if I had to I could have you unconscious before you even got close to me."

"Fair point," Jamie said dryly. "What is it you Brits like, tea? I suppose you have a pot around here somewhere."

His easy demeanor and terse comments reminded her of both Harry and Draco. The thought was somewhat comforting. As she heard him move off, Rebecca turned around slowly to see him rummaging in the kitchen. He found the pot quickly, as if he already knew where it was, and set about to filling it with water. Rebecca pushed herself off the door and walked to her bedroom.

She changed out of the ridiculous Glinda costume and into jeans and a lightweight long-sleeve T-shirt. She emerged when the pot was just beginning to heat up, and found Jamie looking for cups. Rebecca entered the kitchen and stood on her tip-toes.

"Here," she said, reaching up into the cabinet and handing him one. "Thank you."

"Some semblance of normalcy tends to help."

Rebecca gave him a look over her shoulder as she walked across the kitchen for the bags of tea.

"My brother was in the Gulf War," Jaime said simply. "I recognize your symptoms. He was just older than you when he went to Iraq. Hasn't really ever been the same since, but he's gotten better."

"Your brother is a muggle?" Rebecca asked.

Jamie gave a single nod.

"Does he go to therapy, take the medicine?"

"He didn't at first. Then he got worse. After he held me at gunpoint because he thought he was still in Iraq, he did get help. He was given anti-psychotics at first, but they impaired his job with the military, so he stopped and relied on the therapy. Frank has good days and bad days, but the days are mostly good now."

The teapot whistled, and Rebecca removed it from the stove and cut the heat. She turned in a swift, graceful motion and poured the scalding water over the tea bags, then set the pot back on the stove. The crackling sound of the hot water pinging off the sides of the pot reached her ears, a comforting, familiar noise, as she turned back to face Jamie.

"I've never actually had English tea before," he said, raising an eyebrow at his teacup.

"I take mine black, usually," Rebecca said. "I prefer the taste that way. Most people put milk or cream and sugar. I'd give it a minute or two, try it, and then add to taste."

She retrieved the milk from the fridge and the sugar from the counter, plucking a spoon from its drawer. They were set before him within a few seconds of each other. When she finally paused in front of her own mug, she saw he was watching her.

"You learned to move like that," he said. "No one's that graceful unless they've practiced."

"My mentor taught me," Rebecca said, letting her hands fold over the mug of tea. The warmth seeped into her fingers, bringing feeling back to them.

"Severus Snape."

"Yes, him." She brought the mug up to her lips and blew, then took a sip from the tea. It scorched her lips and tongue, but she didn't care. She could feel it warming up her insides as it slid down her throat and into her stomach.

"I don't claim to be a great studier of people or facial expressions, but I know that when you go blank like that, you're actually angry," Jamie said, pointing vaguely at her face before picking up his mug and blowing on the tea.

Rebecca stayed quiet, taking another sip of her tea.

"I also know that we've never had a tighter-lipped Head Auror, or a less social one," Jamie said neutrally. "But we haven't had one in recent history that's so adept at tactics, training, or moving through the politics of the Ministry as you are. Nor have we had a Head Auror who plays so well at enjoying the company of others."

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Rebecca felt her walls come down for a split second. She could open up to him, allow him to understand what truly bothered her, why she still had difficulty sleeping at night, and any number of other things. But as soon as the thought had crossed her mind, her shields slipped back into place and she looked back to her tea, taking another sip. It was slowly becoming bearable in temperature.

Jamie looked at her for a few moments more before looking down at his own mug.

"Well, if what the rumor mill says is true, and also for what it's worth, he's kind of an idiot, isn't he?"

Jamie finally took a sip of the tea, and Rebecca found herself watching him. He held it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing heavily. Slowly, he put down the mug and reached for the milk. The side of Rebecca's mouth twitched before it quirked up into a smirk.

"No offense or anything, but I don't see how you stand the stuff," he said, now beginning to stir sugar into it. The tea was almost a beige color when he took his next sip.

Jamie made a face. "Tolerable. I'll stick with coffee."

"Do you want to sit?" Rebecca asked, motioning to the living room.

"Sure."

He followed her into the living room, where she took the overstuffed chair situated against the wall and he took the sofa.

"I don't pay much attention to the rumor mill if I can help it," Rebecca said.

"You should try, it's good for a few laughs."

"What does it say?"

"Some rumors say that we're involved," Jamie said, drinking from his mug.

"But we haven't— "

"Probably from all the looks I give you," Jamie continued, as if she wasn't speaking.

"I noticed."

"I didn't doubt that you had," he said. "But I was curious why you hadn't said anything."

"It feels like the way Harry would always look after me," Rebecca said, holding the mug firmly between her hands. "Or Ron, or any of his brothers. A brotherly feel."

"How do you know I wasn't being lecherous?" Jamie asked with a wicked smirk.

"Because if you were, I wouldn't have allowed you back here," Rebecca answered.

Jamie paused, then leaned forward and sat the mug on the table before the sofa.

"It would make sense if I was attracted to you, wouldn't it?" he asked before continuing. "Certainly, you're pretty, intelligent, and all the other qualities that has half the male Aurors fawning over you but afraid to do anything about it. But I'm not."

"I know." She took the final drink from her mug before setting it down as well.

"And you don't care." He looked at her. "What I think, what any of them think. Or how any of them feel about you."

"No. I don't think much of myself, to tell you the truth."

"Brauer said you were very humble."

"This is not humbleness," Rebecca said, lowering her head slightly.

"Low self-esteem isn't what I was expecting from you."

"I've done and experienced terrible things that have made me the person I am today. Plenty of good came from those things, but it's difficult to weigh the good with the bad when you can't help but relive the bad most days."

Jamie looked at her before taking in a sharp breath. "My brother wants to meet you," he said. "I've mentioned things to my family about my new superior. They're muggles, but interested enough in our world that they want to keep up. I told Frank my suspicions about what you're suffering from, and he expressed a desire to meet you if you're willing. I think you'll find the conversation enlightening."

Rebecca threaded her fingers together. "I'll think about it," she said. "Please tell him I offer my thanks in the meantime."

Jamie nodded. "Well, if you're going to be all right, I'm going to go home," he said, standing. "Thank you for the tea."

"I'll remember to buy some coffee the next time I'm out," Rebecca said, standing as well.

He smirked at her. "Thanks, Felan. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Rebecca raised her hands to remove the wards so he could exit. After she reapplied them once he'd left, Rebecca cleaned the two mugs and emptied out the teapot, thinking on what had made her think the Guy Fawkes had been a Death Eater mask. Nothing had her more on edge than she normally was in large groups.

Then she thought of Jamie's brother's offer to meet. The meeting of the like-minded, the like-suffering. What could it hurt? What could it improve? She would have to think on this.

* * *

_Discarded Letter from Rebecca to Harry, November 1, 1998_

Harry,

The party was pretty much a disaster. Someone snuck in with a Guy Fawkes mask, and I held him at wand-point because I thought he was a Death Eater. But everything's fine—don't worry about me.

* * *

_Sent Letter from Rebecca to Harry, November 1, 1998_

Harry,

The party went as expected last night. I went as Glinda, the Good Witch, from the Wizard of Oz. A few people got a chuckle out of it. I had a slight incident with a man in a Guy Fawkes mask, but it was resolved. After that, I left, and my Deputy and I had a good conversation afterward. No, we're not interested in each other. When I talk to him, I feel like I'm talking to you or Ron face-to-face again.

His muggle brother, who was also in a war earlier this decade and suffers similar issues to my own, wants to meet with me and talk. I think I'm going to. I suppose it couldn't hurt anything.

I hope Halloween wasn't atrocious over there.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, November 2, 1998_

Becca,

Halloween was unusually quiet until the end of the night. Needless to say, we have one more Death Eater that was on the run until now. There are only a few left, so it shouldn't be too long before they're all in Azkaban.

I'm sorry to hear the party ended so horribly for you. I'm sure your co-worker in the mask has a few regrets he's expressed to you already.

I would say meeting with his brother would be a good idea. It couldn't hurt, I suppose. If you think that it might help, the better for it.

Let me know if there's anything I can do for you.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, November 4, 1998_

Rebecca,

I hope you realize that you're all over the papers with reports that your Deputy Head Auror "swept you off your feet" and took you back to your flat where you probably shagged for hours. Honestly, the press here is awful. First Granger, then Weasley's little sister, now you. It's getting ridiculous.

Let me know if you want Potter and me to throw our weight around to get them to stop. I'm sure the two of us could think of something clever enough to stop them in their tracks. I know he wasn't particularly happy with the portrayal of Granger or his girlfriend. And he would make a decent Slytherin, I suppose. Not anything like the two of us, but good enough to scheme with.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, November 5, 1998_

Draco,

Please give me the names of those publications—all of them. And clips, if you can—of everything. I'll write to them myself.

Also, that's not at all what happened, though from your sarcastic tone throughout your letter I suspect you knew that. I wonder why Hermione didn't write to me about it.

Also, the party was about as I expected it. I hope things are going well with Astoria, if you're still talking to her. I know how mercurial you can be.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, November 6, 1998_

Rebecca,

Enclosed are all the clippings I could find that have the names of the authors and the paper it's from. I suspect whatever you're going to do to them will be much better than what Potter and I could have come up with, in any case. I look forward to seeing it.

Astoria is fine and we are fine. And that's all you need to know as of now, considering nothing has changed in the week since you last asked about her.

And I'm not that emotional. I'm a Slytherin, not a puberty-ridden female.

Potter says you're meeting with a muggle who was in a war. Do you think talking to him will help?

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, November 8, 1998_

Draco,

You should expect to see something in the Prophet tomorrow. I contacted their editor-in-chief through a co-worker here and sent him what I wanted published and an extra incentive should he do it by tomorrow's print. He was more than willing to help a war hero and get vengeance. And to think, he was a Hufflepuff when he was at Hogwarts.

No need to get snippy. I'll be sending you feminine products in my next letter if you aren't careful.

Yes, I'm meeting with Frank Turner, Jamie's older brother. He was in the Gulf War, which was fought in Iraq in the early '90s. I think I'll have an interesting conversation with him, if nothing else. I'll tell you all how it goes.

Rebecca

* * *

_Daily Prophet Front Page, November 9, 1998_

WAR HERO SPEAKS OUT AGAINST MEDIA SLANDER

Published by the Editor-in-Chief, Courtesy to Miss Rebecca Felan

It has come to my attention that a few publications who dare to call themselves _news_ have been telling outrageous lies about dear friends of mine. I call for a cease and desist at this moment, and a public apology to Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Ginevra Weasley by opening publication tomorrow morning. If these so-called news publications do not do as I demand of them, I will make for certain that they are out of business by the end of this year. And as a Slytherin, I make good on my promises. My track record merely has to be referred to, and these publications will see that I do not make idle threats.

I find myself less interested in the news that is being published about me, however, as it is boring and more speculative than anything. To these publications, I say this: say what you wish about my life. It does not affect me whatsoever. In fact, I welcome what you have to say about me.

What I would like to point out to the readers of the _Daily Prophet_, which does me a great kindness in publishing my letter so promptly, is that these news publications are attacking war heroes. They are attacking a girl who is not yet of age. A girl. Someone who had done nothing except help frightened students, some older than her, while Voldemort ravaged Hogwarts and the Ministry. Someone who fought during the Battle of Hogwarts and was able to keep Death Eaters twice her age at bay and even overpower them. They call her terrible names that I cannot bear to imagine her own mother having to endure reading. Her father, a well-known and liked Ministry employee, must also live with these slanderous remarks. Her brother Ron, an Auror, yet another war hero, another friend of Harry Potter's who helped him find and destroy Horcruxes, eventually enabling Harry to defeat Voldemort. Her brother Fred, who gave his life in the Battle of Hogwarts defending the life we all lead now, should be inventing a new device to get back at these people who call themselves journalists. I'm certain his twin George is doing something of the like now. The Weasley family has given itself entirely to gaining this peaceful way of life that we currently have, and this is how they are repaid. These "journalists" should be ashamed of themselves for this alone.

But they did a double-disservice when they attacked Hermione Granger. Harsher words for an of-age witch, one who cares so much about enriching her own mind that she _chose_ to return to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year and gain her N.E.W.T.s. This is the young woman who helped Harry Potter find the Horcruxes and figure out the best method to destroy them, with such little bits of information. This led to Harry's ability to kill Voldemort. Yes, quite the "dumb slut" she makes, I see. This particular author has quite a poetic way with his words, such choice diction that I wouldn't have said to Voldemort himself for fear he would blush. For him in particular I say this: write the most prolific, groveling apology that your pathetic mind can muster, or I will take no issue in _personally_ making you a social leper for the remainder of your days. I will get your journalist's pass revoked and make you the laughing-stock of the wizarding world. Continue to publish sans apology, this message unheeded, and you will see the kind of influence that I have. To make myself perfectly clear, sir, that is a threat upon your career—your livelihood. I would not waste my time in threatening you in other ways—hunting you down would prove uninteresting and unchallenging.

To the readers of the _Daily Prophet_, I turn to you directly once more. Do not listen to this drivel. Do not allow these people to profit off of insulting the people who made this a safer place for you to live. Ginevra Weasley and Hermione Granger have done nothing to deserve the type of filth that has been printed about them. All they have done—they, the Weasleys, and Harry Potter, who are all being insulted by these remarks—is make this world a safer place for all of us: magical and muggle alike. Do not let this be how our descendants see how we treat our heroes. Do not let your children's children think poorly of you for how you spoke of these kind, generous, intelligent, and resourceful witches. Do not let them think that you insulted and tormented Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated Lord Voldemort at mortal risk to himself because it was what needed to be done for the betterment of wizarding society. Do not let these people tear down those who have done nothing to deserve it.

Sincerely,

Rebecca Felan

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, November 9, 1998_

Rebecca,

You didn't need to do that. What do you think you've done? You can't even imagine what type of storm you've caused here, especially at Hogwarts. Get back to me as soon as you can.

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Ginny to Rebecca, November 9, 1998_

Rebecca,

Thank you for the letter. At first, I was a bit insulted that you felt the need to come to my rescue, as you probably expected it to be. But now I understand what you were doing for us all, and for Harry. And I thank you.

Hogwarts is full of excitement. I haven't seen this many people smiling in a long time, especially all the professors. My family and I have been sending letters back and forth throughout the day. My father's been getting support at work, and everyone is writing their own letters to the publications who said those horrible things about Hermione and me. I think they're currently trying to cover themselves as quickly as possible. We'll let you know what's gone on when we see the publications tomorrow.

Thanks again.

Ginny

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, November 10, 1998_

Rebecca,

That was probably the most forward yet subtle letter I've ever read. For a minute, I thought you'd lost your mind. You were inviting them to attack you, all of them. The Ministry, the publications, everyone. But they won't.

I've sent the clippings from today's publications, the same ones who slandered Granger and Weasley. They're quickly changing their tunes, and the author you specifically called out wrote a very good apology before stating he had resigned from his position. Seems like a lot of layoffs happened as well, now that public opinion has so rapidly changed.

Honestly, this is probably the bitchiest thing I've seen you do. And the most Gryffindor-like. Noble, loyal, brave, and completely stupid. Unfortunately, I'm finding that I like it.

You've got to be seriously bonkers.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, November 11, 1998_

Hermione,

You would have done the same thing for me. I don't regret what I've done, and any repercussions I face are my own and no one else's.

No one attacks my friends and gets away with it. The Death Eaters learned that lesson just as these journalists learned, if perhaps in a different way.

Hopefully, Draco doesn't have to be the one telling me that there are your issues in your life.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Ginny, November 12, 1998_

Ginny,

You're most welcome. I do consider you a friend, especially after how you helped me last year get to Bill and Fleur's cottage. Please don't hesitate to ask if there's anything I can ever do for you.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, November 13, 1998_

Draco,

Professor Snape always said I should have been in Gryffindor. Perhaps he was correct.

In any case, I'm glad you enjoyed the letter. I nearly broke my quill while writing it because I was so angry.

Let me know should anything else interesting that arises in the news.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, November 14, 1998_

Rebecca,

It's probably very good that Kingsley has a very liberal view of the freedom of speech for the press. He's willing to look the other way, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to keep an eye on you. Be careful.

I was surprised to see your letter in the Prophet. It made me feel glad to know that you have our backs, even when you're so far away. Hermione's still fuming quietly about you putting yourself in danger as you did, threatening people like you ruled the world, but you knew what you were doing the whole time. I appreciate what you've done for Ginny and Hermione, and I know Hermione does, too, once she stops being angry.

Hope all is well with you.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Severus, November 15, 1998_

It had been nearly a week since Felan's letter was published in the _Prophet_, and the school was still abuzz. Controlling the masses via the media, exactly as those news publications had been doing. What she had done was rash and idiotic, and he was irate that one of his Slytherins had done something like this.

But the way the students responded was tripled, quadrupled by the reaction the general public had to her letter. The radio stations were all aflutter with bulletins about these publications scrambling to issue statements, having the journalists pen their responses, and then firing them. People weren't buying any of their papers, not a single one. Others were burning any copies they found. Stands were refusing to sell them.

She continued to have an impact on his everyday life, even from across a bloody ocean. And it was completely infuriating. All he could hear students whispering about in the corridors anymore were Harry Potter, the rest of the Golden Trio, Ginevra Weasley, and Rebecca Felan. And it was driving him up a wall.

Too many points had been removed from all Houses, even Slytherin. Minerva had had words with him, told him to settle down. The children were actually happy, and they should be allowed that, she said.

Their happiness is interrupting my teaching, he thought as he sat in his office once more, a stack of papers before him.

They were certain to be horrid. No one was likely to have put much effort into them since this week's happenings. Severus shoved them all off the desk, allowing the feeling of satisfaction to come over him as they all fluttered loudly about his office. Then he sighed, waving his wand. They stacked back upon one another neatly. But he stood from his desk and entered his quarters, now located behind a wall tapestry at the back of his office, heavily warded against any intrusion.

He had studied her choice of words and phrases just as he had the letter that still sat in his desk drawer. She had blatant disregard for her own well-being, even challenging the papers to take up arms against her. She also challenged a response from the Ministry or any other authority figure, but nothing as such had happened. The letter subtly introduced Potter, naturally. And ventriloquizing the future generations was particularly clever. It would make everyone in the now think about the future. And everyone enjoyed a good cause. They just needed a reason to follow it, and Felan had given them a perfect reason to.

Her flippant remarks concerning what had been said about her bothered him more than it should have. Was her flippancy because she truly did not care because she knew they were false? Or was she so flippant because she knew the allegations to be true? The latter thought sent his blood boiling. The Deputy Head Auror, Jamie Turner. It would be most inappropriate for many reasons.

But even at the end of last year, she never let another touch her so comfortably. He only saw her willingly touching very few people. Potter, Granger, the Weasleys, the Malfoys, and himself. All of the former people she felt a familial attachment to in some way. For him… well, she had felt love for him. Past tense. He could not imagine her allowing another man coming so close to her.

And then Severus realized he was trying to rationalize his anger at the possibility of Rebecca Felan having a suitor. He hoped she'd fucked all of the men she'd supposedly been dating.

That hadn't been the right thought either. He was supposed to be going for neutrality, and was failing miserably at it, especially with his reactions to her even possibly being intimate with another man.

He was merely irritated because she had been under his protection for so long. He felt the residual effects of that part of his life still affecting him now, in his thoughts for her. He still wished to protect her. That had to be it.

But the photograph they had published of her, of her wearing the brown silk dress, her hair down and her face bare of any makeup. Simple. Just herself. It had made his heart race. Immediately upon seeing him, the young woman in the picture perked up, and she gave him a brilliant smile that was nearly impossible not to return. For everyone else who picked up the _Prophet_, this portrait version appeared serious, withdrawn, the normal face that she put on for the rest of the world. Even the portrait version of her still gave away what he suspected, though he did not wish to.

And he couldn't help but recall how beautiful she'd been that day, that day and so many others. Too many others. And how he had wanted to pull her more fully into the last kiss they had shared, but he had been so weak and cold, her lips the only thing warming him.

His own lips tingled at the memory. The relief he'd felt when she'd forced the anti-venom down his throat, when he'd realized he would live. He had been so certain that he wanted to die. He was so angry with himself for feeling relief, so angry with her for saving him…

Severus poured himself a bit of brandy and sipped it, standing before the fireplace, watching the flames crackle. Winter was coming upon them more quickly than normal. It would be snowing soon. More Hogsmeade weekends. More chaperoning. The holidays. And still no one to talk to. Still trying to turn to speak to her, only to remember that she was not there. It was much less frequent now than the summer, but the fact that it still happened bothered him.

But he would not open up to anyone else, particularly Minerva, though she would just _love_ that. Another thing for her to hold over his head. Just another instance she was right and he was not. Bloody Gryffindors. Nuisances, the lot of them.

He finished off his brandy and set the glass down.

She had been a pleasure to teach, and there were none like her so far. Some of the younger students showed promise, but many were still afraid to speak up without being called upon. Granger, of course, set the bar high, but her rote memory grew wearisome. Duels were less than spectacular, and he longed to practice with someone who could keep up with his speed and agility.

But that was not to be. She was probably curled up in bed beside Jamie Turner, whose masculine beauty was renowned nearly as much as Lockhart's had been during his prime. And she was doing well for herself. She was a hero of the utmost kind, and would continue to be. She had moved on from him, just as he had expected her to, which had been why he'd pushed her away before giving her a chance to get close. Another heartache wouldn't do him any good, and he would have completely broken her had he given into her desires. Broken her emotionally, physically, and psychologically beyond repair.

Perhaps it was that thought that had haunted him that day in court, when she finally began trying to speak to him again. It was difficult to say. His brain was a fog of anger, misery, and shame that day. What he did know is that had he not said what he had and driven her from him, he would have more than willingly taken her to the nearest place with a bed and a door and done his worst. Because she would have given herself to him, let him do what he wanted because of some notion of love she bore for him. He saved her from that, and she had no idea that that was what he'd been doing, if only partially.

Gods, his thoughts were terribly macabre tonight.

He resolved to turn in early that night, leaving the papers for the weekend. And he tried to reason with himself that too many thoughts of Felan would not do him or his dreams any good.

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, November 16, 1998_

Harry,

It just occurred to me last night that no one is taking care of Alastor or Dobby's graves. Or, at least, to my knowledge no one is taking care of their graves. Is there anything that can be done about that?

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, November 17, 1998_

Becca,

Bill and Fleur are caring for Dobby's grave. She planted some nice flowers about it. As far as I know, Mrs. Weasley is also growing a garden around Mad-Eye's grave as we speak, though I heard her complain the other weekend that the flowers were being stubborn. Sounds about right to me.

What brought that thought on? Is everything all right?

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, November 18, 1998_

Harry,

Everything's fine. I just think too much. There also needs to be a memorial set up for Professor Burbage. Could you make the arrangements? There unfortunately are no [ink blot] remains. But I think it would be appropriate for Hogwarts to have a memorial set up for her. Could you ask Minerva what it might cost? I will cover it, no matter what. I want it to look stunning, but something befitting her personality.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, November 19, 1998_

Hermione,

I do hope you've forgiven me by now for my interfering ways. I'm not going to apologize since it was the right thing to do. You should understand that no matter how much alike we may be, we were still raised and nurtured in different manners. We're going to think differently on matters like these. But I have missed hearing from you.

I'm going to meet with Jamie Turner's older brother this weekend. He was in the Gulf War, and our conversation should be enlightening and perhaps hopeful. I'll keep you posted on it whether you respond to me or not.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, November 20, 1998_

Rebecca,

Of course I'm not still mad. I can't stay mad at any of you for any lengthy period. My studies have been keeping my attention for the most part. I feel like I missed so much last year that I can't read enough to make up for it. Merlin, I probably sound silly.

Please do let me know how the meeting goes. I hope it helps.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, November 21, 1999_

Becca,

McGonagall said that she will make the arrangements. She has a good idea as to what kind of memorial there should be. She said that cost was no issue, as the school had been granted more funding by the Ministry this year for repairs to the school. There is enough left over to erect a few memorials, she says, that are all overdue at this point. I'm sure they'll be nice sights to see on the grounds.

Grimmauld Place is almost set for me to move into. You still haven't collected your books with that coupon I gave you for Christmas. When you visit, you'll have to do that. I have no need for all of them.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, November 22, 1998_

Harry,

That's good to hear. I look forward to seeing them. Congratulations on finally ridding Grimmauld Place of decades of dust and grime and Merlin knows what.

I won't be able to come home for the holidays. I'm needed here, unfortunately. But I will try for the summer—I promise.

I'll collect on the books, then, as well.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Hermione, November 25, 1998_

Hermione,

I talked with Frank Turner this weekend. It was interesting to meet another person who acted almost like me. He, however, appears to be fairly normal. I think our talk helped a bit. It at least put some things into perspective for me that I'd really been trying to avoid. More importantly, he told me that this sort of thing takes time to get over, and I'm not stupid for still feeling how I do. I suppose I really needed to hear that.

Anyway, please let the others know I'm doing well and that my meeting was fine. I have to cut this short and get to work ASAP.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Hermione to Rebecca, November 26, 1998_

Rebecca,

I've let everyone know that things went well. I hope everything at the Ministry is all right if you were in such a hurry to get there.

Love,

Hermione

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, November 27, 1998_

Becca,

Hermione told me that things went well. But now we're getting reports there's some sort of issue at the American Ministry, but they're keeping very quiet about it. Please let us know as soon as you're all right.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, November 28, 1998_

Rebecca,

Bloody hell, those Yanks don't know when to keep quiet, do they?

It was my turn to write a letter in any case. Seeing Potter so forlorn at the Ministry is absolutely dreadful since no one can feel like they can do any work when the Boy Who Lived is sad.

Write back when you can, and please be all right.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Re__becca to Harry, Ron, Hermione, & Draco, November 29, 1998_

All,

Things have settled down. Sorry I've been gone for a few days, but I was needed pretty much round the clock at the Ministry.

One of my Aurors… he wasn't dealing well with everything that had happened. One of the men we lost was his best mate—they'd joined together. Survivor's guilt or something. There was a standoff with him, and he was keeping some of the other Aurors hostage. It was a mess, but it's been sorted out. He's in good hands.

I'm relatively unhurt. Suffering somewhat physically from lack of sleep and perhaps some sore muscles and a few cuts from curses. But I'm feeling a bit low for now about not seeing it in him before, honestly.

Anyway, that's all I can say for now. This will be coming on the news about the time you all receive this, so it's nothing the news won't be reporting on. I need some sleep.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, November 30, 1998_

Becca,

It's not your fault. I hope you know that. What he did was a result of things that were going on in his own mind that he couldn't handle. You can't possibly see everything at all times.

Get some rest and write me back, please. Be well.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 1, 1998_

Rebecca,

Potter, Weasley, and Granger thought I might have better luck knocking sense into you in case you were still feeling guilty.

Well, you shouldn't be feeling guilty in the first place. Obviously it's not your fault some bloke went nutters and tried to hurt people. Just because he was supposed to obey you and was beneath you in rank doesn't mean everything has to be your fault.

Honestly, get over yourself, Felan. You're the best thing that's happened to that Ministry in a while, I gather. And you need to quit lying about the sort of physical abuse you're putting yourself through with these bloody missions. Turns out you performed another heroic act to get this guy to agree. You went in the room alone with him, without your wand, and took him out with your fists? Bold, brave, and completely stupid.

While we don't share as much blood as you and Potter, you're still related to me. I'd like for our future kids to spend some time together. You need to get your own head together if that's going to happen.

Stop lying to us, Felan. They know something's up that you're not telling them. And I don't appreciate the fact that you think we're all dumb enough to accept your word at face-value.

I love you. That's why I'm so mad. I care about your well-being, despite what you might think. You need to feel like you can open up to me, or to anyone at this point. I'm not picky.

Write back, or I'm coming over there for you and you can't stop me.

Draco

* * *

_Discarded Letter from Rebecca to Draco, December 2, 1998_

Draco,

I don't blame myself. I'm afraid he's what I'll become. And that thought fucking terrifies me.

* * *

_Sent Letter from Rebecca to Draco, December 2, 1998_

Draco,

I don't appreciate your tone. It's only natural for my initial reaction to be to blame myself. But I'm past that now. I'm glad for your concern, and everyone else's, but seriously: back off.

I know you care. I know that you love me just like I care about you. We're close enough to be family after everything we've been through. But I honestly don't know what you want from me. I don't know what you think I'm hiding from you, but I have things about as handled as I possibly can here.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 3, 1998_

Rebecca,

Fine. I'll back off.

Take bloody care of yourself, idiot.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, December 4, 1998_

Becca,

Draco got a letter from you, but he says he won't talk about it. He's really angry. What happened?

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, December 5, 1998_

Harry,

Draco was making assumptions about my life and I was annoyed with him, so I told him to back off. He ranted at me about how I'm hiding things from you lot and that I shouldn't assume you're stupid. Obviously I don't think you're all stupid. In any case, I'm sure Draco will get over it.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, December 6, 1998_

Becca,

I'm sorry Draco's letter was so harsh, but that's how he is. You finally had us see that this summer. He's not so bad. I'm fine with admitting that I'm glad we're friends.

I hope you two get on speaking terms again soon. He's still pretty angry, and being around goblins with that attitude doesn't bode well.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, December 7, 1998_

Harry,

I'll send him a letter tomorrow. Stupid git.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, December 8, 1998_

Draco,

Hopefully this reaches you before you piss off one of the goblins you're working with.

I'm sorry if my letter was overly harsh. I was under a lot of stress and wasn't prepared for you being… you. Even in letter form.

Anyway, stop being such a git to the creatures you're supposed to be helping. You're angry at me, not them.s

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 10, 1998_

Rebecca,

Unfortunately, I can't stay mad at you for long, no matter how hard I try.

I know my letter was harsh, but I've unfortunately not developed the proper skills to show normal touchy-feeling affections toward people I care about. There's some lovely psychology for you courtesy of the Ministry psychiatrist. Obviously he wasn't in Slytherin.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, December 11, 1998_

Draco,

The psychiatrist here is a total Hufflepuff, if he'd been to Hogwarts. My bets are on that for yours, too.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 12, 1998_

Rebecca,

No, worse. Ravenclaw. It's awful. Talk about know-it-all. He gives Granger a run for her money.

Speaking of, I swear if I have to sit through another letter from her talking about how worried she is for her N.E.W.T.s I'm going to curse her through that bloody box she gave me.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebe__cca to Draco, December 13, 1998_

Draco,

Play nice, Mr. Slytherin. You know you appreciate Hermione somewhere deep inside of you.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 14, 1998_

Rebecca,

Yes. Incredibly deep. You'd need a microscope to see it, I think.

Sarcasm aside, Potter says you can't visit for the holidays. I assume you'll be too busy should someone wish to visit you?

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, December 15, 1998_

Draco,

Unfortunately, yes. I'll be on-call throughout the holidays, I'm afraid. We're trying to give everyone that's lower-ranking in the Aurors time with their families, especially considering what just happened with Chambers early this month. I'm sure I'll be able to work something out for the summer.

Rebecca

* * *

_Severus, December 17-19, 1998_

The first day of the winter holidays. All was quiet, and it was glorious. No more students until the fourth of January, when they would return for the remainder of the term. He was in his office, enjoying the peace, when his fireplace burst into green flames. He raised an eyebrow as Minerva's head popped into existence.

"Severus, Draco Malfoy is here to see you," her voice said from the green face in the flames.

Severus stood. "What business does he have here?"

"That he will not kindly tell me, though I'm the Headmistress. He wishes to speak to you in your office alone."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Send him through."

Minerva disappeared. Moments later, the fire came to life once more. Draco Malfoy did indeed step through, already brushing off his exquisitely-kept robes, probably new from the tailor's.

"Severus."

"Draco. Do tell me why you're disturbing my only time without students."

"I will, but you're not going to like my reasoning."

Severus' brow furrowed. "Then you had best get on with it before I thrust you back through the Floo."

Draco reached into his robes and pulled out folded pieces of parchment. He opened them, showing that there was probably a handful. He handed one to Severus, who took it and scanned it. The handwriting he knew immediately. He glanced back up at Draco.

"You think I have interest in Miss Felan's letters?"

"I think you have interest in Felan," he said evenly.

"You overstep yourself, Draco."

"Just read them."

He shoved the rest of the letters at him. Severus grabbed them away and was about to toss them back at him when he saw the look upon Draco's face. Concern. Worry. Anxiety.

Severus paused, then looked at the letters in his hands. Then he sighed, walking around to sit at his desk and spread them out. Her writing was shaky at times, straight and true at others, and downright illegible other times. But not all of these letters were addressed to Draco.

"Friends with Potter, I see," Severus muttered.

"Begrudgingly at first."

Severus shook his head, but kept reading. He paused at the lengthier one, which commented on the recent occurrences at the American Ministry involving one of its own new Aurors. Once he was finished, he looked up at Draco.

"I'm not seeing things," Draco said sternly. "You know she's unstable, too."

"I know nothing about Miss Felan, Draco," Severus said slowly. "I haven't been in contact with her like the rest of you."

"Could you try?" Draco asked. "She would listen to you, Severus."

"I have done much more than I ever needed to for Rebecca Felan. She doesn't need me to save her bloody life anymore."

He gathered up the parchment in one hand and held them out to Draco.

"If you're so concerned, tell her to stop thinking you're all idiots and come out with what's bothering her."

"I've tried that," Draco said, folding the letters in half and placing them inside his robes. "She didn't speak to me for days. I don't know what she'll do if she's completely isolated. She's my friend, Severus, and a relative, one of the few I have left, even if it's only a drop of relation by this point. You have to understand that I'm concerned, as much as it pains me to admit that."

"You have been around Potter and his friends for too long," Severus said with a roll of his eyes.

Draco slammed his fists onto Severus' desk. Severus held completely still, looking at the suddenly irate boy before him, face red and eyes wide.

"You may think you're fooling the rest of the world, Snape, but you're not as mysterious as you think you are, not to me. Some part of you still cares for her whether you want to admit it or not. I need your help."

"Help you to help Miss Felan," Severus said, voice smooth and deadly low. "I think not. If she still has any sort of Slytherin left in her, she'll survive on her own, without help from anyone, much less me. Get out of my office, Malfoy."

Draco pushed all of Severus' belongings off the desk and scattered them on the floor before turning on his heel and walking briskly out the door. Severus sat listening to the few papers flit through the air and land upon the stone floor. He fell back into his chair, letting out another quick sigh.

Severus couldn't believe Draco had actually come to him for help. The boy was too astute. He wasn't sure how to feel about all of this. Certainly she wasn't suicidal. That was not the tone he got from the letters. But clearly Draco did think that she was in some sort of danger.

He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he thought. Finally, he rose, waving his wand to straighten his belongings back onto his desk once more. He retreated into his quarters, retrieved a suitcase and a few clothes that would fit in well with muggles, as well as some robes, and shrank the whole thing, placing into his existing robes.

Then he went back into his office, warding off the whole thing, though it wouldn't keep out McGonagall if she really wanted to enter. He pinched a bit of Floo powder into his hands and tossed it into the fireplace.

"Headmistress' office."

He stepped through, the soot covering him as he stepped back out again and into McGonagall's office.

She was at her desk and glanced at him as he came out of the green flames.

"I assume the young Mr. Malfoy has gone?"

"Yes," he said. "I am going to take a few days from the castle. I have some research to complete concerning my syllabus for the seventh years. I'll return well before the term begins once more."

"We should be able to hold down the fort until your return, Severus," Minerva said slowly. "Where will your journey take you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Away."

She stared at him. "Very well, Severus. Safe journey."

Minerva turned back to her paperwork, and Severus did not envy her job for the millionth time this term. In fact, he smirked on his way out.

He made his way quickly out of the castle, then off the grounds. He Apparated to the Ministry's alley, where he could enter by way of the main, non-Ministry employee entrance. Once inside, it took much out of him not to strangle everyone who stared too long at him, as if he were some circus act.

"Severus?"

He turned at the use of his given name, and he saw Lupin staring at him from a few feet away, looking very confused. Severus approached him.

"I need to see Kingsley," he said, his voice low. "I have a favor I need repaid. Can you take me to him, Lupin?"

The other man nodded, still looking confused. "Is everything all right, Severus?" he asked, but had already begun to walk, Severus keeping close to him.

"I merely need a portkey to reach my destination," Severus said. "It's too far to Apparate, and since the government needs to approve all portkeys, I wondered what better man to do so than the Minister himself."

Lupin gave him an incredulous look. "This way," he said, waving to an elevator. They stepped inside, along with a couple of others, who gave the pair strange looks.

The elevator shot off quickly, going every which way.

"Our floor," Lupin said, stepping out. Severus followed him.

Lupin's pace was quick, thankfully, and they ran into no one else. They walked down a long corridor, making a few turns here and there. Finally, they approached a desk, a woman sitting at it.

"Grace, Professor Snape would like to speak with the Minister, if he is in," Lupin told the woman at the desk.

The young thing, not more than twenty, glanced up at them. Severus vaguely recognized her as a Hogwarts student, but her House did not immediately come to mind, so she was not one of his.

"Certainly," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "Wait here and I'll see if he's busy."

She left them, walking to a door mostly obstructed from view by a sharp corner. The Ministry was such a confusing place. Lupin gave him a look.

"I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to escort me up here, Lupin," Severus said. "But I will be fine from here."

"What are you doing, Severus?"

"I have some research to complete for my seventh year students," he said. "More than that, no one needs to know except for my students, when they're back from the break, and myself."

"Very well. Good day, Severus."

Lupin nodded his head slightly, then turned away from him and walked down the corridor they'd come from. The man obviously didn't believe him. That was fine. But no one would dare contradict him.

Grace returned to him. "The Minister will see you now, Professor Snape." She smiled. Fake.

Severus gave a curt nod and walked past her, entering the great office. Kingsley leaned on the edge of his desk, waiting for him.

"Severus!" he said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need a portkey that will get me where I need to go and back, Minister," Severus said. "And I'm using one of my favors you owe me in order to create it myself. But I need you to approve it now."

Kingsley's face dropped. No longer happy, his voice also decreased in pitch. "I'm not even allowed to know where you're headed, Severus?"

"The favors you owe me say nothing about needing additional information than what is required to complete them," Severus answered.

Kingsley stared at him for a moment before turning back to his desk. He went around, opened a drawer, and rifled through it. Soon, he extracted a sheet of parchment, sealed and already written.

"Fine," he said. "That leaves one favor with no limits."

"Most kind of you, Minister," Severus said with a slight smirk.

Kingsley put his quill to the parchment and signed his name with a flourish. The parchment glowed for a moment, then returned to its normal state.

"It is on record," Kingsley said. "Make your portkey and get out of my office."

"To think, the man whose life I saved all those years ago would be so short with me today," Severus said, shaking his head slightly.

He pulled a decorative piece from Kingsley's desk, a small, golden Snitch. Then he took out his wand.

"_Portus_," Severus said, tapping his wand against the object, thinking his destination.

The Snitch glowed. Severus stowed his wand inside his robes and gave Kingsley a curt nod.

"Until next time," he said, holding the Snitch tightly.

The portkey transported him from the office. When Severus reappeared, he felt disoriented for a moment. He shut his eyes, allowing the world to stop spinning. When he opened his eyes once more, he could see the American capital from his vantage point on the hill he stood on just outside the city. It had been a while since he'd been to America, but he assumed that this area would still be undeveloped. Thankfully, he'd been correct.

He was able to change into muggles clothing fairly quickly, thankful it was simply just cold and not yet snowing. His black trousers and shoes remained, but the cloak and the other items on his torso were too obvious. Now, he donned a black, long-sleeved shirt and jumper to match. It would keep him warm enough for now. He set his inner sights on a hotel he had visited during his last trip here, then Apparated.

Soon, he was checked into the hotel. As it was getting late, Severus decided to retire for the evening, ordering room service. He would go to the Ministry tomorrow. Albert Brauer was going to have a surprise in the morning.

There was snow on the ground the next morning. That much Severus saw from his hotel window. The entrance to the American Ministry was hidden in plain sight behind the Lincoln Memorial, which wasn't a far walk from his hotel. The walk was fairly pleasant, with too many people rushing through the snow to care much about strangers wearing all black clothing, and not enough of it for the weather conditions.

He entered without much problem, his wand getting verified at the front by some large wizard who appeared to belong to some sort of brute squad. He approached the front desk.

"I'm here to see Mr. Albert Brauer. Tell him it's an old friend."

His stern voice made the young man behind the desk jump to his feet and rush off to communicate this with Albert. Severus stayed close to the desk, watching the area for her. She did not need to know he was here.

Finally, the young man came back.

"Mr. Brauer says you're to come down to his lab," he said. "Take the elevator to the bottom-most floor, walk down the hallway, and turn left. It's the only door in that area."

Severus immediately set off, following the directions he'd been given. Soon, he was in the basement, a good enough place for brewing. He found the door and opened it warily, peering inside to see only Albert was there. He was just shorter than Severus, with blond hair and blue eyes, a slight olive tone to his skin from too much time in the sun, and an irritating smile that never left his face.

"Severus!"

"Albert."

The man approached him, holding out his hand. Severus grasped the slightly smaller man's hand and allowed his own to be shaken thoroughly.

"What brings you here?" Albert continued, letting go of his hand. "I don't think you've set foot in the States since your training."

"I haven't," Severus answered. "I come to have a few of my questions answered, and I need you to not tell another soul that I've been here. Can I trust you to keep that promise, Albert?"

"Come on, Severus, this isn't the days of war," Albert said. "What can be so secretive?"

Severus merely gave him a neutral look. Albert sighed.

"Fine. You have my word as a Potions Master. You know I'd never betray you. We studied together and have been friends too long for any sort of betraying nonsense."

"Good," Severus said with a nod.

"Still as grave as always," Albert said with a smile. "This doesn't have anything to do with your former student, does it? Because you can't blame me for not wanting to let her talent go to waste."

"Unfortunately, this visit is mostly concerning her," Severus said with a frown. "I need to know your impression of her, Albert."

"She's bright, very quick, and knows potions better than most people nearly ready to complete their apprenticeships. The perfect student."

"What are you having her work on while she brews with you?"

"We've been perfecting her Animagus potion. It's quite brilliant, really. I'm surprised she had the aptitude to create it last year, especially under so much stress from You-Know-Who. Are you sure you didn't help her?"

Albert's eyes narrowed, but the smirk on his face indicated that he didn't suspect any sort of deceit.

"No, I merely pointed her in the correct research direction," Severus replied.

"That's a relief. Well, she has one last meeting and a contract to sign, and the potion will be on the market just in time for Christmas. She'll be getting sixty-percent of all its profits. I told her to accept nothing less than that, and the company who's marketing it finally agreed."

Severus considered this for a moment. "How does she seem to you other than a student? What is her personality like?"

"She seems the more serious sort, like yourself," Albert said with a nod in his direction. "Very focused on her work. She doesn't talk to me much about things outside of the potions lab. She's reserved, but she does have a quick wit about her if you get her going. But I've been unable to get her to open up much."

He paused, glancing up at his fellow Potions Master. "Honestly, Severus, how you let a beautiful, intelligent woman like that get away from you is beyond me."

Before he could even think about what he was doing, Severus had Albert by the throat and shoved against the wall. A sneer came upon his face.

"That is my former protégé you're speaking of," he growled. "Think carefully about any words you speak concerning her after this. I'm concerned for her mental health, you buffoon."

"God, Severus, put me down!" Albert said, wheezing.

Severus unclenched his hand and let the man drop to the floor. Albert rubbed his neck for a moment. He looked up at Severus from his bent position, trying to get his breath back. He put a hand on the work table beside him.

"I didn't mean to imply anything," he said evenly, quiet. "There's nothing between us beyond a working relationship. I've merely heard things about her coming here."

"Rumors you had best keep to yourself," Severus said, brows furrowed. "Her health. Mentally. You must have seen her at gatherings and such. You work at the same Ministry."

"The Halloween party," Albert said. "She nearly blew up another Auror because he was wearing a Guy Fawkes mask. She may have thought it was a Death Eater mask. She didn't say anything about it to me. Jamie Turner took her home. If you're concerned about her in other respects, he's the man I'd be choking, not me."

"My sincerest regrets, old friend," Severus said quickly. "I'm here at the behest of one of her close friends at home who could not be here himself. Forgive me if I seem tense, but I'd much prefer if she didn't think anyone was looking in on her, most especially me."

"So the rumors are true."

Severus stared at him, but Albert didn't look away.

"I care little for Miss Felan beyond the fact that she was a student of mine," Severus said, his words slow to form.

"But she saved your life."

"Something I didn't wish to happen. A regrettable happenstance of war. Those who shouldn't survive do, others that should do not."

Albert gave him a sideways glance.

"Has she acted odd at other times?" Severus asked.

"She volunteered herself to spy on the Faithful Followers," Albert said. "She disguised herself as one of them and convinced them to attack the Ministry, told the other Aurors so they'd be ready. When they did attack, the Aurors were ready and she was already here. When Blakely came in…"

"Well?"

"I don't know how true this is," Albert said. "But I heard it from other Aurors. She had a look in her eye when she attacked them all… Like she didn't care. She was reckless. I'd believe it, though. Some of her steps for brewing the potion are a bit off-the-wall, possibly not safe if not done exactly right."

"How much damage to her person has she sustained while on the job here?" Severus asked, eyes narrowing.

"Her knee was hurt fairly badly from the fight with Blakely and his officers. She still limps sometimes, but it looks like she tries to hide it. She's probably gotten a few scars from the Aurors' raids. I heard something about her suffering head trauma on one of their raids, but I never asked if that was true or not. She dislocated her shoulder once and couldn't brew for the whole week."

"Do you know what she does in her spare time?" Severus asked.

"No, but if the way she looks is any indication, she does a lot of working out," Albert said. "She has more muscles than a lot of the Aurors. And after their training, I hear them complain about her hand-to-hand combat style. She might be taking martial arts lessons or something. She also makes the Aurors practice meditation."

Severus' mind was quickly working. The fact that she was so active, supposedly, outside of work boded well, but everything else did not.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"She's very angry," Albert said. "Not overtly so. Most people probably wouldn't notice it. As you know, potions is such a subtle art most times, people like us tend to notice more things about people than others."

Severus gave a curt nod. "Angry how?"

"Tense in her movements, though she's still very graceful at everything. Her jaw always seems set, as if she's trying to keep herself from saying something she shouldn't. If things don't go her way with the potion, or if there's a mistake, she's nearly destroyed her cauldron once. I told her that wasn't acceptable and she never did it again. She also makes us brew with the door open," he added, furrowing his brows. "That doesn't make sense to me."

"She has issues in enclosed spaces," Severus said.

"Hmm. She does not allow herself to be in corners when there are others around, and her back must always be to a wall. That I noticed at the Halloween ball and from our interactions here. But I would say she seems to be trying to handle whatever it is that's bothering her."

"You've been helpful, Albert, and I appreciate it," Severus said.

"You're going to Obliviate me now, aren't you, Severus?" Albert asked with a smile.

"Unfortunately, yes. However, I'll be in touch with you more frequently now."

Severus pointed his wand at Albert's face, and the spell enveloped him. Severus left quickly, before the spell would release him once more to his normal state.

As he made his way back the way he'd come, Severus thought long about all of the information he'd been given in just a few short minutes. Finally, he had reached the large auditorium-like entrance to the Ministry. Suddenly, her voice was echoing from all sides.

Severus ducked behind a pillar, straining his ears to listen and pinpoint her location. Slowly, he peered from behind the pillar, spotting her walking across the lobby area with Jamie Turner beside her. He was close enough that Severus felt his brows furrow at the unusualness of it, but he was not so close that others might notice. Naturally, she looked stunning in her natural state. He sneered at his recognizing her beauty.

He couldn't hear what either of them said, but after Turner spoke, Rebecca laughed. And it was not fake. Turner looked quite pleased with himself. Severus scowled, watching them until they got into the elevator. Once the doors were closed, he walked swiftly across the lobby and out of the American Ministry.

He returned to his hotel to think. He wouldn't leave just yet, needing to find something to return with to show Minerva should she ask for proof of his trip. He resolved to find himself a Lethifold, something that primarily lived in the tropics. However, he had a suspicion there was a magical collector around here that could provide him with one.

The next day saw him successful. The Lethifold was a particularly difficult creature to keep under lock and key, but the medium-sized box with nothing but a pin-pricked air hole would see to its safe transportation until he got to Hogwarts.

When he did return, Minerva was not happy with his choice in defense instruction. Severus had to give away his Lethifold to another collector of dangerous creatures, which would unfortunately not be Hagrid. Minerva specifically told him to find someone else outside of Hogwarts grounds (as far away as possible, actually) to take it.

The Lethifold safely off, Severus returned to Minerva's office and asked, "How do you expect me to make certain they can cast the Patronus under tense conditions?"

"Get out of my office, Severus. I don't want to see you again until the holiday is over."

The whole trip had been worth it just for that.

* * *

_Letter from Severus to Draco, December 20, 1998_

Draco,

I've looked into the situation you brought to me the other day to attempt to assuage your fears. Unfortunately, your fears appear founded. However, I would not suggest directly trying to confront Miss Felan about these issues.

I spoke with Albert Brauer, the Potions Master she currently studies under. He and I were apprenticed together many years ago and have kept in touch often. His impression is that she is angry, perhaps suffering more from the war than she may be attempting to let on. My impression is that she may be trying to prove a point in staying in America at a job she clearly does not enjoy. You, Potter, and the others are going to have a difficult time convincing her to return for any number of reasons, most likely.

I wash my hands of this problem.

Severus

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Severus, December 21, 1998_

Severus,

I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to speak with your friend. Your results are what I suspected, but now I have no idea where to go from here. I'll speak with Potter and the others. Perhaps we can come up with something.

Thank you again.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, Ron, Hermione, & Draco, December 22, 1998_

All,

My potion is officially on the market beginning today. I completed the paperwork for it earlier in the week, and the first few batches are reaching the stores today. And it will be just in time for Christmas. Also, George will definitely want to stock at least some in his store—from the way it's being marketed, I'm expecting it to sell very well.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry & Co. to Rebecca, December 23, 1998_

Becca,

Harry speaking for all of us here at the Burrow when we say CONGRATULATIONS! I'm supposed to extent everyone's love and pride for you. George says he'll definitely sell it (and asks if you can get him a discount).

It's been snowing here pretty decently for the past couple of days. We're expected to get a couple of feet on Christmas. I hope you're getting some snow over there as well—it makes everything pretty and gives us an excuse to go outside and act like kids again.

Hope all is well.

Love,

Harry & Co.

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 23, 1998_

Rebecca,

Congratulations from the Malfoys. Father says he's glad you were able to market the potion for something more well-spirited than the potion's original intentions. I'm just proud of you, as is Mother.

You better not be spending Christmas alone.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, December 24, 1998_

Draco,

Thank you for your well-wishes. And tell your father I'm glad, too.

Also, no, I'm not spending Christmas alone. I'll be with Jamie and a few other higher-ranking Aurors at the Ministry. We're on alert for any troublemaking that might happen.

I've gone ahead and sent your Christmas presents since I won't be around tomorrow. You can also tell your parents that I've set up the piano they gave me in my living area and am practicing again, though it's a bit slow-going.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry & Co., December 24, 1999_

Harry, Hermione, Remus, Teddy, Andromeda, & Weasleys,

Thank you all for your well-wishes. I'm quite glad of the turnout.

I've enclosed all of your Christmas presents. I won't be around tomorrow as I have duty at the Ministry along with Jamie and some of the other higher-ranking Aurors. We're giving everyone else the time off, but everyone is on-call should things go awry.

I've also enclosed an extra something for George. A couple of vials of my potion free-of-charge for his store. I can't shrink them without ruining the potion, so it was all I could send.

I hope all of you have a happy Christmas. Have a couple of roasted marshmallows for me.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 25, 1998_

Rebecca,

Happy Christmas. Sorry you have to spend it at work, but I'm sure you'll find a way to make it fun.

Thanks for the Slytherin-colored scarf. Looks like I'll be getting use out of it today. We're headed over to the Burrow later to be festive. Mother and Father also enjoyed the wine that you got for them.

Enclosed is your gift. Surprise: Mother bought you more clothes.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Harry & Co. to Rebecca, December 25, 1998_

Rebecca,

Happy Christmas!

Thank you for all of our gifts. Everyone's really enjoying them. Muggle board games are a bit confusing for the majority, but Hermione and I are doing our bests to get everyone through them. Monopoly is especially a big hit. Ron's already said we're playing it when the Malfoys get here later. He thinks he's funny.

Here's hoping you don't have to work on New Year's!

Love,

Harry & everyone

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, December 26, 1998_

Rebecca,

Weasley is absolutely absurd. And by "Weasley," I mean Ronald. It seems that during the middle of our good time, he pulls Granger aside and takes her out back to ask her to marry him. Apparently she said yes for some reason. When they came back inside, there was a big to-do and lots of passing around of Firewhiskey. I still have a headache.

By the way, the muggle game called Monopoly is definitely unrealistic and completely unfair.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Ron to Rebecca, December 26, 1998_

Becca,

SHE SAID YES!

I did everything you told me to, but I thought the time at the party was too perfect to pass up. We were all having such a good time, and it just seemed to fit. And she said yes. We're going to start planning everything for when 'mione gets out of school in mid-June. You have to be at the wedding. You're the Maid of Honor. Hermione's already said it. We'll tell you more when we've hashed everything out.

Thanks again, Becca. You're the best.

Love,

Ron

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Ron, December 27, 1998_

Ron,

That's wonderful news!

Also, I'm really honored that Hermione wants me for her Maid of Honor. Of course I'll be there. I wouldn't miss this wedding for anything.

I'm so happy for the two of you.

Also, please tell everyone I'm glad they liked their gifts and that I'm currently sorting through all of mine. But I'm already loving them.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, December 28, 1998_

Draco,

So I heard. Glad you could be there to enjoy the festivities afterward. I don't think you understand what it means to me that you and your parents are making an effort with Harry and the Weasleys.

Anyway, tell your parents thank you for the dresses. Honestly, I'm swimming in them just like you said. Hint that if they're getting me a birthday present, it should be something besides clothing.

Rebecca

* * *

_Rebecca, December 29, 1998-Janury 1, 1999_

The days at the Ministry with the veteran Aurors was peaceful. There was a lot of talking, making plans for the new year with the recruits, and talks of who should be promoted and who needed some more work with which particular trainers in order to make that next step.

Unfortunately, they'd hashed out most of the planning the first day of sitting around and not having anything remotely wrong go in the city. Everything had been quiet since Chambers' hostage situation.

Now the ten of them sat around at the large conference table. Someone had procured a ping pong ball and they took turns trying to toss it into each other's water glasses, each glass sitting in front of an individual. So far, Jamie was winning and looking quite smug about it.

Finally, he leaned over and raised an eyebrow at Rebecca. "Something the matter?"

"Oh." She looked up, startled from her thoughts. "Uh, no, not really. My friends are engaged as of Christmas, so I was thinking about how I'll need the time off for their wedding."

"When is it?"

"June. I'm the Maid of Honor."

Jamie nodded. "Which friends are these?"

"Ron and Hermione," Rebecca said, watching Theodore miss Jacob's water glass. Jacob picked up the ping pong ball with a chuckle and tossed it at Franklin's.

"The other two-thirds of the Golden Trio, so people call them," Jamie said.

"Such a horrid nickname," Rebecca muttered as she watched the ping pong ball sail across the table a few more times.

"You seem awfully calm for someone whose two best friends are marrying one another," Jamie said.

Rebecca shook her head. "I'm thrilled, actually. This is my thrilled face in case you didn't know." She turned to him and gave him a pointed, neutral expression before turning back to watch the ping pong ball once more.

Jamie snorted.

"All right, love birds, your turn!" called Marcus from across the table.

He tossed the ball at Rebecca's cup, but she caught it before it could go in.

"Hey!" shouted Marcus. "That wasn't part of our rules."

Rebecca set the ball down on the table.

The room went quiet as Marcus looked down, breaking the tense gaze he'd been holding with the Head Auror. Rebecca tossed the ball to Jamie, who caught it before staring up at her.

"I'm going for a walk. Contact me via Patronus should you need anything," she said to him.

Rebecca made her way out of the Ministry building and out onto the snowy streets. She watched the flakes go by in the lazy wind. Though it was cold, the wind hitting her face felt refreshing, calming.

She could be studying for the Potions Master's test. She was going to take it at the end of March, when they offered it. Already, she felt behind because of spending so much time on the potion. But she was already working on her second potion idea, the one she would need in order to completely pass the second part of the Mastery. It was only in the planning stages, but already she felt decent about it.

Her mind floated back to Ron and Hermione. Her friends were flourishing without her, just as she suspected they would. Perhaps she wouldn't be doing them any favors by returning. She would be a sore spot in their wedding, the sullen friend who was easily frightened, could snap at any moment over anything. But they had asked her to be there, so she would. This she couldn't disappoint them in. But then she'd return here as quickly as she could. The thought of returning home made her heart race, and the anxiety within her filled.

She took in a few deep breaths and reminded herself that she wasn't anywhere near Hogwarts or any other place that had any of those other memories. Importantly, Greyback and the other Death Eaters were in Azkaban. The captured Faithful Followers were also in the prison for wizards in the United States, ironically called Olympus. It was located in northern Alaska, where no one would dare try to escape. There was absolutely nothing for miles around, and the bare minimum number of guards to keep the prisoners in line.

Feeling somewhat more calmed, Rebecca turned to reenter the Ministry, then decided to sit in the lobby for a while. They had already spent two days with one another, with no company of any of the other parts of the Ministry, who were all on leave for the holidays still. And they would be here until the first. After that, the Aurors would return and all of them would get two days off before returning for their normal work schedule. Rebecca resolved to only take one of those days. The second wasn't necessary.

When she did return upstairs, Marcus didn't say anything. They returned to the game without further incident.

By the time the first of January rolled around, they had given up on anything serious happening. They stood on the Lincoln Memorial a half-hour midnight, watching the fireworks already beginning to go off. She and Jamie stood slightly apart from the others in silent companionship. Jamie had become more of a friend than Rebecca was initially prepared to admit, but they had a certain easy camaraderie that she'd really only felt for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The friendship with Draco she even had to work on.

They stood with a few inches between them, Rebecca feeling comfortable enough with the space, grateful for it.

"Does the thought of us together really bother you that much, Felan?" Jamie suddenly asked, staring at the fireworks before them.

"The thought of me with anyone bothers me," Rebecca said, also not looking at him. There wasn't any need to.

"Given up on dating, have you?"

"A while ago, actually."

"Same here. Muggle women are a bit too complex to deal with, and the women of the wizarding world only seem to date me because of my position. Or my good looks. It's difficult to tell."

"A bit of both, most likely," Rebecca said, her eyes scanning the dark sky. You couldn't see the stars here, not in the city, but the vast expanse was still brilliant, even when there weren't any fireworks. "And the men aren't much better. Did you know the first muggle man I went on a date with thought my Dark Mark was a tattoo I'd gotten voluntarily? I mean, I don't know what else he would've thought, but seriously. Can you imagine having to try and explain that to a muggle?"

Jamie shook his head. "No."

More silence. A few more rounds of store-bought fireworks. The city was going to put on a spectacular show, perhaps as brilliant as the Fourth of July celebration. Rebecca couldn't believe she'd already been here for five months.

"Think you'll ever be willing to give it another go?" he asked.

"Are you trying to say that we should attempt to date one another like everyone already thinks we are?"

Jamie shrugged. "Seems like it might be worth it." He glanced to her.

"I think I'd rather keep your friendship," Rebecca said, meeting his gaze. "No offense."

"None taken," Jamie said.

It was about fifteen minutes until midnight, and the other Aurors were already breaking out some champagne. Rebecca would indulge them. She couldn't blame them for wanting to celebrate. Tomorrow morning at six, there would be the second tier of the senior Aurors returning to take over their posts until the third, when they would be required to return. One glass of champagne for dealing with five straight days at the Ministry seemed a small reward.

"Do you think your aversion to touch has something to do with you not wanting to try and date others?" Jamie asked.

"It probably has a lot to do with it," Rebecca replied.

"Have you tried to break the fear of it?" He looked down at her once more.

Rebecca shrugged. "Never had much of an opportunity to try. I always seem to panic on the dates whenever they'd come in for a kiss or try to hug me. It's stupid, but it's nothing I can help."

"What if you tried with someone you trusted?" he asked.

"You're awfully persistent tonight," Rebecca said, her eyes flicking over his face. "Care to explain?"

Jamie sighed. "My mom says at this rate I'm going to marry my job and leave her grandchildren-less."

Rebecca smirked. "So you're trying to get me to date you to get your mother off your back? I'm flattered."

Jamie rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is that it couldn't hurt either of us. I'm pretty sure Minister Smith even thinks we're involved. This would just make it official."

"Not even asking me out on a date first, Turner," Rebecca answered. "Classy."

"What if we kiss at midnight," he said. "If you can't even do that with me, or if we don't feel anything, then I'll shut up."

"But then your poor mum will think you just don't _want_ to give her grandchild."

"Seriously, Felan. Your deflections are obnoxious right now."

Rebecca took the question seriously then, at the look he was giving her. He seemed desperate.

"Do you think there's something wrong with you, Jamie?"

"Not any more than you thinking there's something wrong with you," he replied. "I just don't have PTSD. But I am a pretty big failure at relationships."

"Well, I've never even had one before, so I'm not sure what makes you think I'll be any better at one."

"Merlin, I've lost my head," Jamie said. His hair swung back and forth in front of his eyes. "I shouldn't be asking this of you, but I'm desperate."

"I can tell."

"I know you can."

"But I don't really understand why."

"Is it really that important?"

"I think so," Rebecca said.

"Then you'll have to give me something in return," Jamie said, crossing his arms. "You'll have to open up some too if you expect anything from me."

Rebecca took a moment to consider.

"Fine. We can talk about it afterward."

Five more minutes. Honestly, this shouldn't be that big of a deal. It was a stupid kiss, something everyone her age had already done a million times by now. Or whatever number was more feasible. She supposed the math didn't really matter at this point.

At least she was grateful the other Aurors weren't watching, weren't even bothering to look their way.

It would make things a lot easier if she could feel something for Jamie beyond a brotherly affection. If she could just settle for making each other the happiest they could given the circumstances. But that was never how her life worked. That would be _too_ simple.

The countdown to midnight, and the huge display of fireworks, was upon them. The other men were chanting down from thirty. Rebecca wondered what Jamie was thinking about. Then she felt him take her hand. Her initial reaction was to jerk from him, and she did jerk slightly. He held her firmly, but not roughly. Rebecca made herself hold still.

She looked up at him just as he was turning to look down at her. His gaze was tense, like he was going to will this to work.

"Five! Four!"

He leaned closer, and Rebecca already felt her heart beat racing. Trapped. But there was open space all around them. He was only holding onto her hand, which she could easily break. That settled her brain for a moment.

"Three! Two!"

His face was level with hers. His blue eyes were level with her green ones, staring into them intently.

"One! Happy new year!"

The fireworks sounded behind them. Rebecca closed her eyes as Jamie pressed his lips against hers. Soft, tender, warm. Unmoving. Letting her move if she wished to. She could feel his hair brush against her forehead. Her heart pounded against her chest, anxious, telling her to move away. And she did, pulling away from his lips quickly and looking up to the sky, taking her hand from his hand at the same time.

She could feel him watching her as she stared at the fireworks, taking in the brilliant display to try and hide her embarrassment.

"I wanted to feel something," he said.

"But you didn't."

"No." He paused. "And you were still scared."

"Yes. As well as nothing."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

He turned to look at the fireworks as well. Rebecca's shoulders fell once she was out from under his gaze. Snowflakes began falling, the wind pushing against their clothing. Jamie and Rebecca watched the fireworks quietly. Once they were finished, the rest of the Aurors entered the Ministry once more, having forgotten about them, it seemed.

"I think I'm too picky," he said suddenly. "I'm irritable, sarcastic, and too serious for a girlfriend. Women date me because they like the pretty face. Most muggle women I've dated are high in society themselves—politicians, lawyers, and the like. They think I'll be their arm candy and that I don't have a brain. God knows what makes them think I'm all right with that."

He shook his head. Rebecca turned to face him, but he still looked up at the sky, as if it held the answers.

"Witches want me because I'm the Deputy Head Auror and I'm stable. Normal. Whatever they're looking for. I don't like being used. The other women I date that aren't trying to use me somehow, I can't bring myself to like them. I've been in a few long-term relationships, but it's me that messes them up in the end, I'm sure. Send them all running off."

He kicked at the pillar they were standing next to.

"I'm not old or anything, and I'm going to live to one hundred or more years as a wizard. It's not like I'm overly concerned yet. But I just wonder what I'm doing wrong."

"It's probably not you," Rebecca said. "You can't force something that isn't there. You haven't met the right person for you yet."

"That's really the only explanation, I guess. Maybe I'm afraid there isn't someone for me."

He turned around and looked at her. "I can't even feel anything for you, and you're pretty much what I thought I've been looking for in a woman. I'm sorry I used you as an experiment, but I guess I thought if we just kissed… I don't know. Christ."

He shook his head again.

"I think the more you worry about it, the more you stress yourself out about it, and then the less likely you are to be receptive to other things you might not think of," Rebecca said.

He looked back at her. "You're right. See, this is why we're friends. You'll keep me from being neurotic."

Rebecca smirked.

He let the silence fall between them, then made for a bench a few feet away. Rebecca followed him, then sat about a foot from him on the bench. The stared at the snow for a while before Jamie spoken up once more.

"I read the record of the court proceedings for your trial," he said. "And for Snape's. Before you came here. I was curious about you."

Rebecca shrugged.

"Your aversion to touch…." He stopped. "But you could've killed him in the battle, I thought."

"I could have."

"You threw a dagger at Bellatrix Lestrange in the battle," Jamie continued. "I don't understand."

"With Bellatrix, I was getting revenge for someone else. Sirius Black. He was trying to protect me when she killed him. It doesn't make any sense why I wouldn't kill Greyback, but I didn't."

She thought about that, recalling how she'd felt during the battle at Hogwarts.

"Bellatrix hurt me through my friend. Greyback didn't. He just hurt _me_. I'm more tolerant of things happening to me than to my friends. I'm still alive, Sirius isn't."

Jamie nodded. "I understand."

"But yes, he does scare me, even now. Even in Azkaban, across a bloody ocean. He's why I ward my door and windows. He's why I can't let anyone touch me unless I trust them with my life. And it sucks."

That didn't seem to encompass it, but it was all Rebecca could think of. She hadn't said that out loud to anyone. It didn't make her any less afraid, but it made her more aware of her problem.

Jamie didn't say anything at first. "I'm not an expert on abuse victims. But I do know that it's not an unusual feeling."

Rebecca nodded. "I think my problems have been exacerbated by everything else I did last year," she said quietly. "It's hard to shake everything at once. And everything that happened even after I got out of Azkaban… it didn't help. Nothing helps, it seems."

Jamie didn't respond for a while, folding and unfolding his hands a few times. "You love him, don't you? Snape."

Rebecca bit her lower lip sharply, drawing a little blood. She put her tongue against the injury. It would heal soon enough.

"Yeah." She put her face in her hands. "And that's just… so infuriating. I'm so angry at him, at myself. Mostly myself. But I've tried. I've tried so hard to hate him. But I can't."

Jamie placed his hand on her shoulder softly. Rebecca jumped at his touch, but didn't move away. She moved her hands, letting them rest on her knees.

"I'm fine," she said, her eyes dry.

She looked to the stone of the memorial, taking in the scene. The weight of what she'd admitted was gone. She felt better.

She gave a sudden chuckle. "Maybe we should pretend to date each other. We could settle for worse people."

"But then my mom would get her hopes up," Jamie said.

"And I guess it wouldn't be fair to you," she said. "What if you finally did meet someone you connected with?"

"What about you?"

"I'll die a spinster," Rebecca said with a smirk.

Jamie rolled his eyes. "So dramatic. Let's go inside. It's cold as hell out here."

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, January 3, 1999_

Becca,

Not to sound like I'm mimicking Ron, but I've been thinking a lot about it. I'm going to ask Ginny to marry me.

I've talked with Ron about it, mostly so he wouldn't try to punch me if I didn't talk with him about it first. If she says yes (which is pretty much 99.9% likely), we're going to have the weddings one week after the next. Ron and you are going to share the duties of Best Man and Woman. Hermione will be the Maid of Honor, or whatever her title might be since she'd be married by that point (they're going to get married first). And Ginny can choose whoever she wishes as her other bridesmaid, or grooms…maid. Terms.

Sorry, I'm just really excited. I hope you can read this. My handwriting looks a bit shaky.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we want you to stay the whole summer if you can—from late June to late August, if possible. If your Minister will give you the time off. Use whatever Slytherin methods you can. We want to spend as much time with you as possible, especially after the weddings and honeymoons and whatnot. We've missed you.

Tell me what you think.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, January 5, 1999_

Harry,

That's great! Obviously you're not copying off of anyone. I know how much you and Ginny care about each other.

I'll talk to Minister Smith about this tomorrow and let you know.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, January 7, 1999_

Rebecca,

Merlin, help me, the lovebirds are driving me up a wall. Potter and Ginevra are engaged now.

Come home and save me from the love-filled craziness.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, January 8, 1999_

Harry,

After a bit of prodding and a lot of negotiations, I have the summer off.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, January 8, 1999_

Draco,

Stuff it. You like this. Besides, you and Astoria are still together, so you have someone to use to send crazy love-filled tripe back at them.

Ginny still has a space open in her wedding party, as far as my knowledge goes. Maybe you should tell her you want to be a bridesmaid.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, January 9, 1999_

Rebecca,

You're really not as funny as you think you are. I hope you're aware of that.

It also seems that she's chosen her brother Charlie to be the second in her bridal party. Apparently she's been close to Charlie since childhood, and she wanted a male to walk with you down the aisle since Weasley and Granger were going to do the same.

Potter talks too much at work. I can only listen to so much drivel.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, January 10, 1999_

Rebecca,

We'll be finalizing the plans, but it looks like Ron and Hermione will have their wedding June 27, and then Ginny and I will have our wedding the next week, July 7. I'll bore you with the boring details when you get here. Can you plan to be here June 24 at the latest? We'll need you to help with any last-minute… things. Hermione and Ginny will be better at explaining this, I promise.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, January 11, 1999_

Harry,

Yes, I'll be there by June 24.

Don't worry, I'm sure I'll get on fine with the wedding stuff. How difficult can it be?

Also, Charlie will be across from me on Ginny's side? Draco said you told him.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, January 12, 1999_

Draco,

I think I'm hilarious, actually. And you'd look totally cute in a dress.

I'm getting confirmation on Charlie. It'd be nice to know who it was at least.

Also, I'll be coming in on June 24 and staying until the end of August. So we'll be spending a lot of time together while the happy couples are on their respective honeymoons and such.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, January 13, 1999_

Becca,

Yes, it is Charlie. Hope that's all right.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, January 14, 1999_

Harry,

Not a problem. I was just curious who it would be. Where are these weddings taking place? In the backyard of the Burrow?

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, January 15, 1999_

Rebecca,

I'm not putting on a dress for your, or anyone else's, amusement. Now you've got Astoria trying to get me to do it. I'll never hear the end of this. Thanks a lot, Felan.

I'm not sure if I want to spend any time with you after causing me this much psychological damage.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, January 16, 1999_

Becca,

Of course, the Burrow's backyard. We'll need you to help us select the reporters we're letting in to both events, actually. It'll only be two to each, and we'll be picking different media types and publications. Obviously none of the ones who spoke poorly of any of us will be in attendance. But your help with that selection process would definitely make us all feel better.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, January 17, 1999_

Harry,

I'd be glad to help. If you want to schedule it for the 24 of June, that's fine. I know the sooner, the better. Sorry I can't be there sooner.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, January 18, 1999_

Draco,

You know you love me. And my sense of humour.

Also, I really like Astoria. You have my permission to keep her forever.

Tell your parents I'm coming into town and they'll never let me leave your sight for as long as possible.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, January 20, 1999_

Rebecca,

If you could've heard the sigh I emitted upon reading your last letter, you would know my frustration with you.

Unfortunately, you're right. I'm attached to you by this point, so I suppose I'll have to see you at some point this summer. I'll mark the days on my calendar in utter anticipation. Maybe I'll get George to help me with procuring some muggle fireworks for your return.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, January 25, 1999_

Draco,

I've seen a lot of fireworks, but any that touch George's hands would probably end up pranking me somehow. Or doing bodily harm. So let's just nix that idea. Just a hug will be all right.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, January 26, 1999_

Rebecca,

Fine, have it your way. Such a lack of adventure. Boring, boring, boring.

Some Slytherin you are.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, February 2, 1999_

Becca,

Just wanted to check in and make sure everything was all right. Sorry if I've seemed distant, but I've been busy with… everything, really.

Haven't heard from you in a while. How are things?

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, February 5, 1999_

Harry,

I'm also very busy with work, so my apologies for not writing more often. But please expect that, since I'm working more often to ensure I can take the time off. Visiting for so long will be worth the hours I'm putting in.

Things are fine. Jamie and I are good friends now. I'm glad I have someone else to talk to. Making friends has never been the easiest thing for me, contrary to what you might think. And the papers have finally stopped insinuating that we're seeing one another, which is also nice.

I'll need to be short—I have to get to bed.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, February 7, 1999_

Becca,

Even if you're busy, I'll still try to check on you from time-to-time. Cousinly/best friend duties and all that.

I am glad to hear you've got a friend. From what I hear, Jamie Turner's a nice enough bloke.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, February 15, 1999_

Rebecca,

Thanks so much for writing me recently and keeping me in-touch with the goings on in your life. And also leaving me to suffer through Valentine's Day with the happiest couples on the planet.

You had best answer me soon, Felan.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, February 20, 1999_

Draco,

Like I told Harry, I'm putting in extra hours at work to make sure I get the time off for the summer. It was a stipulation to Minister Smith agreeing to the time off.

I'm sorry if you're so miserable, but seriously, go talk to Astoria.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, February 21, 1999_

Rebecca,

Seems like your Valentine's Day went well, too.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, February 25, 1999_

Draco,

As you know, I've never celebrated Valentine's Day. I think it's a stupid excuse for a holiday.

And unlike you, happy people don't bother me.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Draco to Rebecca, February 26, 1999_

Rebecca,

I think that's a lie and you know it is. Happy people piss you off as much as they piss me off.

Draco

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Draco, February 28, 1999_

Draco,

Sure. Whatever you want to think. If it helps you sleep at night, that's lovely.

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, March 5, 1999_

Becca,

Things are going fairly smoothly here. The majority of the planning is done, and all that's left, really, is to decorate for the weddings, which won't happen for a while longer.

How are you?

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, March 9, 1999_

Harry,

That's good to hear. I'm sure the rest of it will fall into place.

Also, I'm going to be off the grid for a while. That's all I can say. I don't know how long I'll be gone.

Please tell Draco I'm not mad at him. He'll understand what you're talking about.

Send my love to everyone, and try not to worry about me.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Severus, March 20, 1999_

He tried not to think about the significance of the day. He also had been trying to ignore the looks on both Ginevra and Granger's faces over the past few days. The general looks of misery they were giving one another at their table over breakfast could only mean a few things, and all of them had to deal with _her_.

He'd done a fairly decent job of washing his hands of the whole situation just before Christmas. The rest of his holidays had been spent in solitude, and she didn't cross his mind again. Apparently, his curiosity had been sated enough to allow him to continue a relatively normal life.

The only problem he'd had since seeing her was his dreams of her had picked up once more. And they'd gotten progressively more… He couldn't even bare to think the word. Sexual. And it was pure torment. They weren't frequent at first, perhaps once every couple of weeks. Now he took Dreamless Sleep whenever he could to spare himself a night. And it spared him the next morning, when he would wake up painfully hard and generally annoyed.

But now, here he was in the Great Hall, watching the Gryffindor table, the two friends of her, specifically, hoping that there would be some sort of indication of what was happening.

The owls began to arrive, one swooping low over them. Ginevra raised her hand as an owl closed in upon them, obviously one familiar to her. It gave up its parchment, and she and Granger huddled together.

Granger held a hand over her mouth as Ginevra went pale. Slowly, the younger girl stood, clasping the parchment. She began making her way to the staff table, and Severus could feel his chest tightening at her approach.

Finally, she stood before Minerva, who turned her gaze upon the girl.

"Miss Weasley?"

"Headmistress," Ginevra said quietly. "Hermione and I wanted to ask if we could be excused today from our classes."

"Whatever's the matter, child?" Minerva asked, leaning forward.

"It's Rebecca, professor," Ginevra said. "She's really hurt this time. We're not sure of her status. The Minister is trying to get in touch for us."

"Oh, dear," Minerva said. "Come, Miss Weasley, we'll get your brother to escort you home before classes. Neither of you are probably in a state to Apparate."

She stood quickly, turning to one end of the staff table.

"Professor Weasley, a word, please!"

Ginevra's eyes met his own and held them for a moment.

"My apologies for missing your class, _sir_," she said.

"It is most all right, Miss Weasley," Severus found himself say gently.

Ginevra blinked, then turned to follow Minerva. Percy Weasley, farther down the table, looked like he was concerned, but his face did not pale as much as his sister's had at the news. Minerva had them out of the Great Hall without many students noticing.

She returned to her seat and sat heavily.

"We cannot let the students know, Minerva," Severus said quietly, glancing at her. "She is still too well-known and respected. She has sway here. The students are just beginning to normalize from the last scare."

Minerva nodded. "You're right, Severus. We will keep this quiet, but will alert the staff. They all know Rebecca and deserve to hear what's going on."

Severus nodded, watching as Minerva leaned over and told Filius, seated on her opposite side, that there was to be a short meeting after breakfast. He passed the message along, and Severus, still a bit numb, did the same on his side. The students were not paying them any mind.

In the corridor of the staff entrance to the Great Hall—the same place where Rebecca Felan had come to him and stayed with him, protected him from the Aurors— they held their meeting.

"Rebecca Felan has been injured," Minerva said. "It is serious, though the extent we are unsure of. This information we're keeping from the students, as it is best for their morale that they know as little about this as possible. But since all of us have taught Miss Felan, I felt it fair for you to know. Keep her in your thoughts. Percy will be in contact with his family throughout the day, and Minister Shacklebolt is trying to contact the American Minister to keep tabs upon her. We will know something, hopefully, before the day's end."

It was quiet, and Hagrid began to take his oversized handkerchief from his coat pocket to dab at his eyes. Against his better judgment, Severus spoke up.

"Today, for those who are not aware, is Miss Felan's nineteenth birthday. Perhaps sending a card by way of Professor Weasley to his family to get to Miss Felan would not be remiss."

As suspected, all eyes were upon him instantaneously. He schooled his features into perfect neutrality, as if he'd done nothing out of the ordinary.

"She was of my House," he said slowly, his voice even. "Despite my personal feelings, that does not change my knowledge."

Suddenly, his idea had credence.

"Hopefully Percy can send them along at lunch," said Filius. "A novel idea, Severus."

Nods of approval and agreement swept through the professors, and they made their way down the corridor. Hagrid, stooping and already beginning to sob, was being escorted away by Slughorn.

"Very un-Slytherin-like of you, Severus," Minerva said as she stepped away from him. "But I quite enjoy the change."

She walked from him, her pace quick, leaving him no time to retort. Hopefully the news of the cards being his idea would not make it back to anyone outside of the castle.

The morning had a painfully slow pace. Between classes gave him time to think, pondering if he would, or should, take up his own advice. Finally, just before lunch, he took a square of parchment and put his raven feather quill to it, the same quill she'd given to him the previous year on his birthday.

_Miss Felan,_

_Happy birthday._

_Get well soon._

He did not sign it. He folded it so that it was half its original, already small, size. Perhaps it would get lost among the others. He placed it in his robes before he could think any further upon his actions.

At lunch, the professors were passing their letters or words of encouragement discretely to Percy at the end of the table. Severus simply dropped his on top of the others, meeting Percy's eyes for the briefest of seconds whilst doing so, before he moved on to take his seat beside Minerva.

The remainder of the afternoon was just as slow as the morning had proven. By the time dinner had come around, Severus was quite tired of dealing with students. They seemed to grate on his nerves more often than not as of late, particularly today when he was trying his hardest to not focus on how concerned he was. And the guilt had slowly been picking up speed. Now it all but consumed him.

So when the word was passed that Percy had delivered the letters successfully, and that he had news that he could share with them in an hour's time, Severus felt himself give a sigh of relief. After dinner, he could barely focus to grade two essays. Normally, he could have gotten at least five or six done in the same amount of time. Pathetic.

The professors were soon congregated in the staff room by seven. Percy was the last to arrive, holding a fairly long piece of parchment. Probably Granger's work.

"I want to say that Rebecca is stable, before I begin," Percy said. "Kingsley was having difficulty getting in touch with Minister Smith in America because he has been at hospital with her for the majority of the day."

The staff made sounds of joyous relief.

"The letter in your hand, Percy, read it to us," Minerva said.

Everyone settled in their seats, and Percy remained standing.

"I haven't gotten a chance to look it over yet," Percy said. "So forgive me if I stumble. It's from Hermione."

He cleared his throat, settling his horn-rimmed glasses on the tip of his nose so he could peer over them and at the parchment. Severus wanted to leap across the room and take the parchment from him.

"Percy, we've had word from Minister Smith. Rebecca's condition is thus far stable, though she remained unconscious throughout the majority of the day. So Minister Smith has told Kingsley, she was under cover in a Ministry operation for the last few weeks, since her last letter to Harry, which was written on the ninth of this month. Minister Smith would only say that the operation dealt with illegal substances being smuggled into America, and that Rebecca volunteered for the position, citing her previous expertise in the related fields."

"Obviously something dealing with Dark artifacts or perhaps plant life," Slughorn said.

"Or illegal magical beast smuggling," Hagrid growled.

"Miss Felan's expertise areas were quite vast," Minerva said, lips growing thin. "It would be nearly impossible to figure out what, exactly she was doing, nor do I think it particularly matters."

The staff settled, Slughorn and Hagrid staring at the table.

"Continue, Percy," Minerva said.

The red head looked back at the parchment.

"She woke up around noon her time, but was not up for speaking for about half an hour. Rebecca seemed disoriented at first. Minister Smith was able to talk to her and recounted her story for us, removing the parts that might harm the case against the men she'd been spying upon.

"Rebecca claims that her position was somehow compromised. Her memory was slightly fuzzy on the details, but she thinks she may have accidentally slipped in her portrayal of the character she was pretending to be. Before she was able to react, the wizards had rid her of her disguise, in this case a transfiguration method, and tortured her. The Cruciatus was mainly used, though the mediwitches say that some physical damage was done as well to her person, though that she would not say. She was vague on many of the details concerning the attack. The mediwitches told Minister Smith that she would recover fairly quickly with proper care, but that she had suffered a concussion, which explains her memory loss and disorientation. The nerves in her left arm will take extra time to recover, most likely from the Cruciatus, and as it stands she has little feeling in the appendage. She has a cracked rib, easily fixed, and many bruises. Her tongue needed to be repaired while she was unconscious, as she'd bitten it terribly at some point, the mediwitches say, in an attempt to not scream."

Percy's voice wavered, and he stopped, staring at the parchment.

"Forgive me, I had no idea Hermione would be this graphic," he said, brows furrowing at the page.

"It's all right, Percy," Minerva said. "We need to hear this."

Severus' eyes flitted to the portrait behind Minerva, where he'd seen some movement since the beginning of the meeting. He'd thought little of it until Albus was in full view, seated before all the other inhabitants of the portrait, watching Percy intently.

Percy cleared his throat once more before continuing. "Minister Smith left her in the care of Deputy Head Auror Jamie Turner, who has apparently become a good friend to Rebecca during her time there. Jamie stayed with Rebecca in the room and delivered all of her messages from us and you, the staff, to her. He tried to get her to talk, but she would only read one letter and then set it aside for the next one.

"He said she was doing rather well by the time she'd been awake for an hour. She picked up the next piece of parchment—"

Percy stopped suddenly, his eyes looking up over the parchment and meeting Severus' directly. As quick as that movement was, Percy's eyes were back on the parchment faster. "I—I'm sorry, this part is a bit smudged out. I'll skip over it. I don't think it's important, in any case."

His finger was upon the parchment, following a line. "Here we are. After that, Jamie said that she expressed her desire to leave the hospital as soon as the next afternoon and return to work. Obviously, Minister Smith refused. She insisted, and Minister Smith was forced to relent to allowing her back at the Ministry in three days' time, with the express order of doing nothing except training the new recruits or doing deskwork.

"So, Percy, Rebecca fairs about as well as we have suspected. However, as we also suspected, she has been hiding much from us. Rebecca has no idea the Minister has been in contact with us as of yet, but Harry is currently setting up a time where they can converse directly back and forth via letters using my boxes. Until then, we won't know much more, but we can rest knowing that she's safe. Please inform Professor McGonagall that Ginny and I will be returning to the castle tomorrow morning. Hermione."

Percy folded up the parchment, his eyes leveling upon all of the staff in the room.

"Very well," Minerva said, the first one to have her wits about her. "I think that is all for now."

"I think not," Severus said, standing slowly, his eyes upon Percy. "I believe Professor Weasley is leaving out a piece of information the rest of us should be privy to."

"Severus," Percy said, his voice trying for even and cracking slightly at the end of the man's name. "I told you, I can't read that bit of the letter. I'm sure Hermione didn't mean to smudge it."

Severus approached the young man, staring him down as he did so. He was only a foot from Percy, then held out his hand.

"Allow me. I'm very good at deciphering what others cannot see."

For all his tiny tremors of fear, something else peeked through. Irritation. No—rage. Slowly, he lifted the parchment, his hand shaking from his emotions, and began to read.

"He—Jamie— said she was doing rather well by the time she'd been awake for an hour. She picked up the next piece of parchment, the smallest of the bunch, he said, and then the look upon her face completely changed. The parchment set aflame in her hand, and she tossed the ashes to the ground beside her bed before moving onto the next one."

Percy looked up, folding the parchment once more and putting it safely inside of his robes. "After that was when she tried to convince them that she was prepared to leave the next day."

The room was silent. The tension could have been as strong as a Shield Charm. Finally, Percy folding his hands together.

"I seem to recall that you sent a letter, Severus," Percy said evenly. "A very small letter."

Severus sneered. "Does every bloody person believe that I am the sole reason for Miss Felan's leaving?"

"No. But you did nothing to help."

From the corner of his eyes, Severus saw Albus' likeness get up from the portrait. He rounded from Percy and made his way to the portrait.

"What did I tell you about bringing a _child_ into this war, Albus?" he said, his voice carrying across the room. "What did you think would happen to her? But she wasn't anything more to you than a pawn, like Potter. She could be expendable, but only if it was convenient for you! To hell with her state after the war!"

Albus stared at him from the portrait, not speaking. "Now you have nothing to say for yourself? You certainly had plenty of justification for everything when you were alive. Speak, you stupid, old fool!"

"Even a stupid, old fool knows when it is time for him to admit when he was wrong, Severus," Albus' likeness told him. "I failed Mr. Potter and Miss Felan more times than I wish to recall. I did what I thought would benefit everyone the most at the time without thinking of the consequences either of them might suffer later for it. It appears that Miss Felan received the worse end of the bargain, as it seems many Slytherins do."

"And to hell with them, is it?" Severus shouted. "Not as good as your precious Gryffindors? Not worth the time to see that they receive the same advantages? Do not deny it. That is precisely what you did during your tenure."

"I fear my prejudice in my younger days may have impaired my judgment for many fine, young Slytherins," Albus said, sounding very tired. "And, in particular, I failed two Slytherins above all others. And for that I can never do anything to repay the debt that I dug them into."

Severus found himself breathing heavily. Letting his emotions carry him into such a state was something he strove never to have happen, especially in front of the rest of the staff. But at that moment, he didn't care. He had gotten Albus to admit to his fallibility.

"But I had quite hoped that that two particular Slytherins would have found ways to help one another with the mess I had left them in," Albus said, then stepped from his portrait.

And there Severus stood, his hands clenching into tight fists and his jaw crushing his teeth together. Under the gaze of the silent staff members, even Filch, standing in the shadows, holding and petting his cat. Accusatory. Every single one of them.

He turned toward the door, his feet carrying him in that direction before his brain could even register the action. The door slammed behind him, and his long, quick strides had him at his quarters before very long. His wards up, Severus commenced to destroying his sitting area, fierce cries and shouted spells culminating into what was probably a cacophony of sound that might have been able to reach the dungeons had he not warded against the sound escaping the room.

Severus didn't know how long it had been, but he was spent. He let his wand fall to his side, his chest heaving as he strove to catch his breath.

Wasn't this the reaction he had wanted from her? Anger. To turn her attention from him. To never try and contact him again. Yes. He had wanted all of that from her.

And he had always wanted Albus to admit all the wrongs he'd done by all of them. Him, Potter, and especially the injustices done to Rebecca Felan, having been brought into this war in the most despicable way possible. Appealing to her better nature, her innocence, her willingness to help, the desire to prove herself. Appealing to her Slytherin nature, the one that had always been just under the surface. This all from the man who wished to not tell Severus of the girl's resemblance to his former love, and only by the kindness of Minerva had he been spared, the witch understanding that he and Lily had been good friends during their school days.

And the whole time, Albus had been conspiring to push them together, as if they could take comfort from one another, even after everything had happened.

At this point, he wasn't sure who he was more angry with. Himself, her, or Albus. But that was all he could feel, even as he sunk into the half put together chair, worn out.

The worst part was he could picture her, sneering in near perfect imitation of his own. Harnessing her rage as he'd always taught her to do. The magic it would take to create the flame without aid of her wand or her words would be great. So overpowering had to be her hatred that the magic must have flowed through her, and her flame would have been great. Still so young, yet so powerful. Much like he'd been. So misunderstood, so trampled upon. And he had helped the cycle he had never wanted to perpetuate for anyone, not after what he had suffered.

Severus looked around his sitting area, then decided this would be something best to deal with in the morning. He felt much too drained mentally, physically, and emotionally to try and attempt the necessary magic to repair everything.

He had so utterly failed her that it was painful. And that realization nearly broke him of his own hatred for her. She, too, had also failed him. Had she not saved him, he would have had time to release her from the Life Debt she owed him. The words had been on his thoughts even as her sweet lips touched his own for that final time.

In saving him, she'd ignored a direct order from him, and had been for quite a while. It broke the trust he'd put in her, the thing he never should have felt for her no matter their circumstances. And she had trusted him up until the end, when he'd flung the both of them out of the window and out of harm's way. Her holding tight to his chest had made his emotions soar as high as they flew.

And all of those emotions, he failed himself and her. Completely inappropriate, no matter what their status had been the year prior. This was what made her believe that any feelings she had toward him were love. She was perceptive, would have picked up on his feelings no matter how deeply he had attempted to bury them. Those feelings, whatever name she wanted to put to them, would have made her strive to name her own in an attempt to know how to reciprocate. It was his own fault that she'd come to think in the way she had.

And this was why she was currently so miserable. Because he had pushed her away, as was his duty to do. Someone like her deserved much more than what he could give her, especially in that state his mind had been last June. She deserved better than the life Albus had set up for her the moment he desired to have her as a spy. But she had also suffered so much loss, perhaps it had all culminated into what she was currently feeling. Anger, hatred, stubborn bravery and stupidity, which could be interchangeable most times, and her insatiable desire to prove herself to everyone, to herself, and now to him.

But he had an invite to both Weasley and Granger's wedding and Potter and Ginevra's wedding. And Potter had, essentially, blackmailed him into coming. He'd give exact details to the press of Severus' good deeds if he did not show up at both of the events. It was definitely an attempt to get him and Rebecca together, Severus knew it. And he now understood why the Sorting Hat had wanted to place Potter in Slytherin.

So he'd agreed. He would see her at those weddings, and if she would permit him to speak to her, he would tell her exactly how much of a dunderhead she was being and to get over it. Over all of it. There was nothing she could change.

He couldn't help but think of what she might be dressed in. How her hair would look. The piercing quality behind her bright, green eyes. So full of intelligence, wit, and always knowing a lie when she saw it. Would she think him lying? How harshly would she judge him herself? Had she perfected her sneer, her scowl? Did she still shy from others' touch? Would she flinch at his own, though she never had before when they were not acting?

That thought made him stop. She should flinch from him. And the fact that he secretly hoped she wouldn't…

It had been a long day. He needed to sleep.

Severus undressed and covered himself with his general sleeping attire, an old pair of black sweatpants. He used to sleep nearly fully dressed, when it was uncertain when he would be Summoned and when others might have need to care for him should he be unconscious. Now he could indulge himself in wearing as few articles of clothing as possible when he was alone. It allowed him some sense of relaxation.

His fingers went to his neck, feeling the ugly scars upon the sensitive skin there. Large, textured roughly about the edges, where Nagini's fangs had ripped from his skin at her forced withdrawal. The dittany had only been successful in a minor way of closing the wounds. But he had paid a small price for what the Dark Lord had wanted him for.

Being alive was a relief. And he still didn't want it to be.

He slipped under the covers, closing his eyes and hoping his dreams would not be of her. But inevitably, they were. But they stood far apart from one another in the dream, she seated with her back firmly against the wall and he across the room from her. Neither of them spoke. They simply stared. Stubborn silence. Finally, she lifted her wand.

The wolf Patronus stood between them now, beautiful and regal in its silvery light. Its maw opened suddenly, her voice spilling from its unmoving lips.

"I hate you."

Severus eyes shot open, but he did not sit up in bed. He oriented himself, then steadied his breathing.

It was a long time until June 27, when he would see her. But he would have to wait, to hold out until then. And he would deserve every one of her words.

* * *

_Letters back and forth from Harry & Rebecca, April 2, 1999_

_Becca,_

_I've given you the time you needed to recover and get your head on straight. We're talking tonight via this letter whether you like it or not._

_Why'd you lie to us?_

* * *

Because I wanted you all to get on without me. I never planned on returning to England if I could help it. There are too many things for me there, things I can't bear to think about a thousand miles away. Voldemort is dead, Bellatrix is dead, Greyback is in Azkaban, and I'm still afraid. I'm constantly afraid. And angry.

I didn't want to bring you all down. I'm unwell. Like Remus. Affected. Tainted. Something. Whatever verb you deign appropriate. Nothing has helped, and I don't know if anything ever will.

* * *

_You're not tainted, Becca. I can't believe you ever thought that we could just move on without you. You're our best friend. We wouldn't just forget that because you moved across a bloody ocean._

_I'm sorry. I'm trying not to get angry, to understand. The war affected us all, and I know that your situation was much different from ours. It's something I can't understand fully. But I know the fear. The constant feeling of it pressing on you. It still overtakes me sometimes, overtakes us all. I'll wake up some nights thinking that I'm still in the middle of it all. But we've lost. We've all lost. I can't imagine what you're going through, but I want to try. _

_But please don't think we'd give up on you so easily. We want you to come back, to stay. Not just for the wedding. We'll get you all the help we can get you. Anything you need. We'll even help you deal with the problem you're having with the memories. We can go to Hogwarts, wherever. We want to help._

* * *

I know you do. Everyone wants to help. But I don't know what will help. I promise that I'm actually seeking help this time, and being escorted to and from my mental health sessions by Jamie. He says that he has no problem "telling on me," as it were.

I won't ruin your weddings. I'll be on my best behaviour, and we will work on it when you come back from your respective honeymoons. I'm sure that having some time to myself while there, to think, might be helpful. Seeing everyone again may bring up my mood.

* * *

_I'm not concerned you'll ruin anything. None of us are. We still want you to come back, sooner if it was possible, but we know it's not._

_I have another question. A few, actually, but this one is really more pressing._

_Did you purposefully slip while you were spying this last time? What happened?_

* * *

No, I would never purposefully slip. I'm not suicidal. Just the feeling of impending doom seems to follow me. But never suicidal.

I don't know what happened, really. One moment everything was fine, and they believed that I was who I was pretending to be. The next moment, I'd mucked it all up. I'm trying so hard to remember I get headaches sometimes. Even the Pensieve doesn't help. They may have always suspected, but had waited until this moment to strike. I don't know. Maybe I did something not like the person I was imitating, or I hadn't hidden my Dark Mark as well as I thought. It's tough to say.

As far as I know, the assault was only physical and magical and nothing else. The mediwitches are simply lucky that they checked me while I was unconscious or I would have been much more difficult to deal with.

* * *

_Okay. I just had to check. Thank you for being so open with me and everyone else. You don't have to hide this from us, or anything. We'll always support you._

_Why did you really leave? Was it just… was it Professor Snape? Was it everything? Were we just not helping you like we should have been? I still don't understand._

It was everything. I can't explain any further. I just can't right now.

_That's fine. We can talk about that when you come back._

_But the letter you burned up when you were in hospital. That was Professor Snape's._

* * *

Yes. It was his letter. As suspected, he's not my favorite person in the world.

Also, clever of Hermione to try and get a rise out of him by describing my injuries so graphically. Percy told me, before you ask. Apparently got a hold of Hermione's box with Ginny's help and sent me a letter telling me about the events that occurred in the staff room that night. It was kind of him to do so, if misplaced.

I feel numb when I think about him. That will probably answer your next question. I don't think about him when I can help it. Another question. And I have little interest in encountering him while back home.

* * *

_I didn't know Percy had already contacted you. Yeah, Hermione wrote a pretty… intense letter. She tried to guilt trip him. But it's not entirely his fault you've left, so it was unfair of her. _

_Yes, that does answer a lot of my next questions._

_What else have you lied about?_

* * *

Nothing.

Is my interrogation over?

* * *

_For now. Please just know that you can contact us whenever you need. We'll respond to you the same day. We're all looking forward to June._

* * *

I am, too.

But I think I'm going to focus on getting better on my own. I'll send you occasional letters, letting you all know how I'm faring. But I'm going to be making up the test that I missed at the end of March since I was indisposed for the most part. I'm scheduled to take it at the end of this month, which is the only time they'll allot for me. I need this in order to proceed with my Potions Mastery, and I can't ruin that chance. I'm not trying to push you away again, seriously. But I need time to think without having so many different opinions in my head once my test is done.

* * *

_I understand that much. We'll look forward to your updates. I'm sure you'll beat the test into submission._

_Love,_

_Harry_

* * *

Thanks. You are all the best friends I could ever have. It's scary. But I appreciate it.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry & Co., April 30, 1999_

Harry & All,

I took my test yesterday, and they've told me today that I've passed. Obviously, I'm pleased. This means that all I need to do is brew and show competency for how a Potions Master or Mistress takes care of him or herself for a Ministry-certified test proctor/Potions Master, and everything will go well. I can choose whatever methods I want in order to prepare for this—they're very lenient about it all.

On the other front, I'm working closely with a different Ministry psychologist. She seems to be more receptive and helpful. I'm still experiencing a lot of the same feelings we previously talked about, but they are at a somewhat lesser scale. Ms. Underhill tells me that this is the most difficult and slow-going part, as it doesn't seem like any progress is being made. But it will get better. I'm hopeful.

Also, we managed to catch them men who I was originally after. They're getting attempted murder added onto their sentences. Their trial is set before I have to leave, so I won't have to interrupt my visit in order to come back and testify, so no worries.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, April 30, 1999_

Becca,

That's great news all around! We all knew that you could pass the test. Remus adds that you probably crushed it. I'm sure he's right.

We're really proud of you with sticking with your program. And we're marking the days off on a calendar until you arrive. We're beside ourselves with happiness.

I'm glad you found the men who hurt you. I'm sure with your testimony, it'll be a fairly simply case to prosecute.

Draco wants me to tell you that he's going to keep you on his feet when you get here with sarcasm, no matter how much I tell him to try and coddle you. Which I'm not telling him to do. Obviously, he's exaggerating.

And we want to ask after your arm. Has the feeling returned at all? Are you doing any sort of physical therapy for everything?

Love,

Harry & Co.

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry & Co., May 10, 1999_

Harry & All,

Thank you for your letter. I've read it when I'm feeling down, and it does help. Re-reading a lot of the letters helps. It reminds me that I'm not just doing this for myself.

I'm also looking forward to when I'll be able to come back. Six weeks and four days.

Ms. Underhill wanted me to tell you about my feelings on returning, so here it goes:

I'm so scared. I don't think I've ever wanted to really tell anyone about how scared I am because I've tried to make myself seem fearless, which is impossible. I'm so scared about coming back and undoing everything that I've been working for over the past month, and what I tried to do earlier, when I first got here. But I know you all will be there to support me, Harry with your coddling and Draco with his sarcasm and reminders of when my humour wasn't just a defensive mechanism or a way to lie to people.

Okay. I think that sufficiently sums it up.

I am going to physical therapy. It's a lot harder than I expected it to be. I'm also taking potions of my own brewing in order to attempt to get more feeling back in it. My left arm is my dominant arm, so it's very important to get as much back to me. My fingers are still as dexterous as they were previously, but it's difficult to imagine that since I can't actually feel them very well most of the time. I am getting better, and my therapist is confident with my potions and continued therapy, I should have most of my feeling back before I come to visit. I believe they targeted my left arm because of the Dark Mark. I'll tell you if my theory is correct after their trial, which is set to take place later this week.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry & Co. to Rebecca, May 11, 1999_

Becca,

Thank you for opening up. I've read your letter to the others, and we all agree that you're making progress, even if you don't think you are. Keep working with Ms. Underhill, and we're certain you'll be fine when you get here.

Even if you need help, we'll never be far from you. Mrs. Weasley is currently fixing up your room for your stay here. She says she knows it's still a while off, but she's got a surprise for you anyway.

Love,

Harry & Everyone

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry & Co., May 28, 1999_

Harry & All,

Sorry for the lack of updates, but I had a bit of a relapse that needed to be taken care of. I tried to isolate myself again after the trial, and Jamie had to forcibly take me to my appointments with Ms. Underhill. I've told you I'd be honest from here on out, so here's the truth: I didn't want to keep going because I didn't think it was helping. I had convinced myself I was better off trying to get better on my own, though it hadn't been working for the past few months at all. Thankfully, Jamie noticed and pulled me to my senses, and he nearly got hexed in the process. Stupid man.

Anyway, I'm doing better than I was last week, but I've kind've gone back a few steps in my process. I'll get better.

My theory about them targeting my Dark Mark was correct. I can't say I entirely blame them for everything it represents, but that doesn't mean they had to try and kill me because of it.

In any case, my nerves are slowly recovering. I might have less feeling in it when I visit than I expected because of my set back, but it won't hinder me. I'm becoming ambidextrous, which I suppose is a good skill to have. I've heard being right-handed is a lot easier anyway.

Love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, May 29, 1999_

Becca,

I'm relieved to hear you're doing better. The lack of communication was beginning to scare me, but I know you wanted to do this on your own somewhat. I'm glad that Jamie is able to help you, even going so far as to put himself in harm's way to do so. You've got a mean hex no matter what it is. Send him my thanks and tell him we'd like to meet him at some point.

Let us know when you get here if there's anything any of us can do to help with your arm. We want you as healthy as possible.

3 weeks, 4 days.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, June 5, 1999_

Harry,

Make that two weeks and four days.

Not much to update on. I'm currently feeling more stable than I did even mid-March. But I still feel the fear, particularly with larger crowds. But I should be fine for the weddings. It'll mostly be people I'm familiar with there anyway.

Send my love to everyone.

Love, Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, June 6, 1999_

Becca,

There won't be too many people there. Probably about 50, most likely, at both weddings, but no more than 60. And the two reporters per wedding.

Everyone sends their love in return, and their happiness that you're doing well.

2 weeks, 3 days.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, June 14, 1999_

Harry,

One week, 2 days.

Still no progress.

I'm keeping up with my workout routine, though. Yoga, meditation, karate. The physical activity seems to help me sleep better, have less nightmares. I don't take Dreamless Sleep potion anymore because I don't want to be addicted to it. I can't afford something like that right now.

I've discovered it's much easier to block with a somewhat-feeling-less arm in karate. I thought it could prove useful, but I've been told not to be so reckless with my own body. The thought that that's what I'd been doing had never crossed my mind, so I immediately rejected that idea. But it is getting better. I can feel my fingers when I touch them to one another and when I'm touching other things for the most part. It's faint, but it's something.

All my love,

Rebecca

* * *

_Letter from Harry to Rebecca, June 15, 1999_

1 week, 1 day.

Glad to hear about your routine and your progress with your arm. You should invite me and Ron to join in for your workouts. It'd be interesting to see if we could keep up. And knowing some karate moves might be helpful.

Love,

Harry

* * *

_Letter from Rebecca to Harry, June 23, 1999_

Harry,

You've got yourself a deal.

See you tomorrow.

Love,

Rebecca


	15. Upon British Soil, Late June-Early July

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for Rebecca. I don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **I'd like to thank my friend and RP partner Mandy once more for helping me with this chapter. She inspired me to write a number of things in here and actually wrote a few lines I'll probably use herself, with some variation on them. Without her help, this chapter would have been much more of a struggle than it currently is. And thank you to my friend Lauren who helped me keep Severus as in-character as possible, considering the circumstances he's under. You both are really awesome.

Also, I love comments.

Songs for this Chapter:

"Don't You Want Me" The Human League

"Set Fire to the Rain" Adele

* * *

_Arrival, June 24, 1999_

The portkey trip over from Minister Smith's office to Minister Shacklebolt's was instantaneous, but still somewhat disorienting. Rebecca had not had to use a portkey since her arrival in the States. She closed her eyes and opened them to see Kingsley watching her, smiling.

He held out his hand. "It's good to see you again, Rebecca."

"You as well, Kingsley," Rebecca said, forcing her left arm forward to shake his hand.

He released his grip after a moment. "I suspect you'll want to get going," he said. "Welcome back. You've been sorely missed."

"Of that I'm certain," Rebecca said with a congenial smile.

"I've opened up a connection between here and the Burrow directly," Kingsley said, gesturing toward his fireplace. He stepped toward it, retrieving the bag of Floo powder, and held it out to her. "I'll disconnect it as soon as you're gone. I figured this would be easier on you than Apparating."

"Thank you. I appreciate the courtesy," Rebecca said, stepping forward and taking a pinch of Floo powder. "I'll see you at the wedding."

Kingsley nodded. "I'm officiating both. Enjoy yourself, Rebecca."

She gave a nod before turning to the fireplace and taking in a breath, trying to withhold both her excitement and the anxiety she felt growing inside of her, knowing that she was going to be ambushed with numerous hugs, lots of loud noises, and any number of questions. Finally, she tossed the Floo powder into the fireplace. Green flames burst forth, lighting the room with their hue.

"The Burrow!" she said, then stepped into the fireplace.

The flames engulfed her, pulling her into them, further, spinning her, then spitting her back out a few moments later, directly into the living room of the Burrow. Rebecca held a hand to her mouth as she coughed, waving the soot from her face.

When she looked up, her friends and adopted family were standing around her, giving her anxious looks. She smiled, then held out her arms.

"Well, come on, then."

A sea of red hair surrounded her, permeated by messy black and bushy brown. It was a group hug the likes of which she'd never encountered before, but she found herself smiling, laughing, and hugging her friends back, feeling comfortable in their embraces and their overwhelming questions.

Finally, everyone began pulling away, attempting to allow her some room. By the time they were all standing back, Rebecca noticed that Remus held back from the group, simply leaning against the wall and smiling at them.

Rebecca walked over to him. He stood from the wall and opened his arms. Their hug was brief, but within it, Rebecca felt there was some sort of mutual understanding.

"It's so great to see you all again," Rebecca said, turning and looking at them all. "Where are the Malfoys?"

"They'll be round for dinner tonight," Mrs. Weasley said. "We're having it outside. The table is already prepared and Ginny, Hermione, and I will begin cooking shortly."

"And I will 'elp, too," said Fleur, stepping forward.

"What will I be doing in the mean time?" Rebecca asked.

"Helping us pick out the reporters," Harry said, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

Rebecca chuckled, allowing him the affectionate gesture.

"Harry, how about we let Rebecca put her things away first?" Mr. Weasley said.

"If we must," Harry said, shrugging his arm off Rebecca's shoulder.

"At some point, Hermione, I need to talk with you and Ginny today," Rebecca said. "But it can wait until later tonight, if necessary."

"Talk about what?" said Ron

"Girl things." Rebecca stuck her tongue out at him.

"Follow me, Becca, your room is on the third floor," Mrs. Weasley said.

Rebecca let Mrs. Weasley lead the way to the stairs, and then up the awkward staircase to the third floor landing. There was a short hallway, where two rooms were, across the hallway from one another.

"That one Remus has been staying in," Mrs. Weasley said, pointing to the one on the right. "This one is yours."

Rebecca looked upon it and saw the nameplate carved into the door. _Fred & George_. She felt her right knee falter, and she reached out to catch herself on the wall. Mrs. Weasley reached for her at the same time, but Rebecca waved her off.

"Sorry. I've got a bit of a trick knee now," Rebecca muttered. "You're just lucky it didn't happen on the stairs."

"If you're really all right, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, turning to the door and pushing it open. "Go on, set your things down."

Rebecca stood straight and forced herself to enter the room, her back rigid and mind racing with memories of Fred pestering her, being kind to her, his body upon the floor of the Great Hall, a glimpse, really. She shut her eyes for a moment upon entering the room, pushing the thoughts away as if she were clearing her mind for Occlumency.

When she opened her eyes, the room was plastered with wizarding photographs. Most of them were already on the wall, probably put up by Fred or George at some point. The rest Mrs. Weasley must have done herself. This had to be the surprise Harry was talking about. Rebecca set her bag on the bed, going closer to the walls to examine them. Them when they were younger, staying at the Burrow during the summers. Some of them at King's Cross. Many of the Weasleys, relatively new-looking pictures, of Harry, the Malfoys, and even some of the Hogwarts professors. There were also ones of Remus, Teddy, and Andromeda, waving at her and looking generally happy.

Then she came across a picture that seemed out of place among it all. The photo Albus had insisted that they take for the new Order picture. She stood between Alastor and Sirius, Remus beside him, and Albus in the center of the photograph. The rest of the Order members were clustered together in a large group. Professor Snape was at the very far end of the photograph, having been forced into joining by Albus at the last moment.

"Oh, I hope it doesn't upset you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, stepping carefully into the room. "Albus did only have the one picture, hidden very well. His portrait told Minerva where it was recently, actually, and she didn't want it in the castle, so she gave it to me. I thought it was a rather nice picture of us all."

"It's lovely," Rebecca said, still looking at the picture for a moment. Albus' eyes still twinkled, even in the photograph. Finally, she turned to look at Mrs. Weasley. "All of them. They're amazing. Thank you so much."

"Welcome home, dear," Mrs. Weasley whispered, then wrapped her arms about Rebecca again, pulling her against her firmly.

"All right," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling back and dabbing at her eye with her apron. "Let's get you back downstairs. Harry, Ron, Arthur, and Remus want to brief you on the reporters you'll be helping them interview."

The next hour was spent going over portfolios of the reporters, and then the rest of the afternoon was dedicated to interviews. Rebecca didn't like most of them, being reminded too much of Rita Skeeter. Many of them looked at her expectantly from time to time, wondering if she was the next person who was going to ask a question. But that was not her job, they decided. She was to watch and listen, look for clues about their true motives. If she had a question, she could interrupt for clarification. But Rebecca kept quiet until the fifth interview, when she cut Mr. Weasley's question off in the middle.

"Does my Dark Mark interest you, Mr. Pace?"

She sat with one leg crossed over the other, her hand upon her chin, propping it somewhat up. Rebecca looked at him intently as her words hit him. But he didn't flinch.

"I've never seen a Dark Mark up close before, Miss Felan," he said flatly. "I'm sorry if I've given offense."

"Yes, you are," Rebecca said. She moved her hand so she could turn to look at the men sitting to her side. "This one has been the only truthful one at all so far. You'll want him at both weddings unless we can find three others."

Brian Pace did not make a move one way or the other when Rebecca spoke.

"Thank you," Harry said, smiling and nodding to Pace. "We'll be in contact."

The rest of the interviews Rebecca cut short for one reason or another, mostly to call the reporters out on their dishonesty or their real intent in being at either wedding. Twenty interviews, and they barely found the four that they desired, all from different publishing stations. Two women, two men, one of each at the wedding. Certainly with this spread, there would be at least some semblance of truth being published the following days after each wedding.

After the last interview, Rebecca sighed as they entered the house once more through the kitchen. "I really don't like that Albright character. He reminds me of Pettigrew."

"I agree," Remus said. "Cowardly. But he was truthful, you said."

"As much as a journalist can be, I suppose. Unless you work for _The Quibbler_," Rebecca replied with a shrug. "We'll see how he fares at your wedding, Ron."

"I'm sure they'll be fine. I'm not worried."

Rebecca smiled. "Of course you're not. You're getting married. Hermione's the only thing you were thinking about that whole time." She poked Ron on the shoulder. "Won-Won's smitten, just like I always suspected."

"Oy!" Ron said, grinning even as he shoved her hand away.

Rebecca grinned.

"We're not using that particular nick-name anymore," Hermione said, turning from the counter.

She came over and gave Ron and hug, and he put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Hermione disentangled herself after a second and looked to Rebecca.

"Molly says Ginny and I have done enough for now," she said as Ginny came to stand beside her. "Let's go talk now before dinner."

"Sounds good," Rebecca said. "Let's go to Ginny's room."

The others didn't see the girls until Molly called up the stairs, as the Malfoys would be arriving soon. They trotted down the stairs, smiling with their plans and keeping it quiet from everyone else as they'd promised.

When the Malfoys arrived, Narcissa wouldn't allow Rebecca from her grasp for at least a minute, keeping the opportunity away from Draco and Lucius, who chuckled behind Narcissa.

"It's so good that you're back, Rebecca."

Finally, Rebecca was allowed to turn to Lucius and Draco, giving them hugs. Afterward, she hit Draco lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey!"

"That's for being an arse to me in your letters," she said.

Draco pointed at her. "But I was right."

"Still an arse." She reached up and tussled his hair, laughing.

That earned her a glare. But by this time, Molly was calling for everyone to start grabbing plates of food and bringing it out to the table. Once they were settled at the table, the conversation flowed easily. There wasn't a quiet moment.

"So I heard Mum transformed my room into some sort of living photo album," George said, looking down the table at Rebecca. "How d'you like it?"

"It was definitely a surprise," Rebecca said with a smile. "I promise I won't break anything."

"I got everything out of there I wanted. Break away!" George replied, throwing his arm into the air.

Rebecca laughed, as did the rest of the table. She felt her cheeks hurting, the muscles aching whenever she had to let the smile fade. But even in her safe spot, with Harry and Ginny on her right and Hermione and Ron on her left, the anxiety was always just under the surface. From their table, Rebecca knew the exact location of Alastor's grave, remembered the night clearly and how she'd arrived, how they'd all swarmed her with their concern. Just a few feet away was where Scrimgeour had attacked her, tried to force her to show her scars.

All of these thoughts, these memories, swarmed her suddenly, and she felt claustrophobic between her friends. Draco, sitting across from her, noticed her distress and tossed a roll at her, forcing Rebecca to look up and catch her. Their eyes met.

"Careful, Felan," he said with a nod of his head.

She gave a nod in return. "Thanks, Malfoy." She smirked, then took a bite out of the roll.

They helped Molly washed up the dishes, showing off different spells to help clean and put things away faster. George had them all laughing as he spun the dishes like a carousel. The rest of the night had them breaking out the muggle board games Rebecca had sent at Christmas. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, the Malfoys took their leave. Slowly, everyone else started leaving for their homes or going upstairs for bed. Molly eventually took Arthur's hand and led him upstairs as well, bidding Remus and Rebecca a good night.

They sat opposite each other, her on the lone chair against the wall and he on the sofa.

"You don't sleep much either," Rebecca said.

"No. I was hoping your problem would have alleviated, though."

"Somewhat. But I'm too anxious to sleep well tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

Remus nodded, leaning back on the sofa.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Faring, perhaps, the same as you. As you may have guessed, I have a tough time letting things go, even if they're not my fault." He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

"I understand. That's something I'm still working on, too."

Remus let his head lean against the back of the sofa so he was staring up at the ceiling. He sighed.

"After this summer," he said. "It was the deadline I gave myself last year. And I'm going to make it."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. It might be more of a case of the blind leading the blind, but we've always had an understanding, even when I was still in school."

"That we have. It's strange how the majority of my friends are no longer of my generation. But at the same time, it's interesting how that type of friendship can transcend everything."

Rebecca smiled, and he looked up.

"Tonks taught me that," he said. "She taught me more about myself in a year and a half than I thought I knew about me already. And I can't let myself forget that."

"You'll make it," Rebecca said. "I can already see that you're much more relaxed than when I left."

He nodded. There was a pause in the conversation when Remus looked at the staircase before turning back.

"You had us all worried for a while," he said quietly. "What happened, Becca?"

The desire to keep her mouth shut, to deny everything that had happened to her, reached her as her lips parted to explain. But she pushed her words out.

"Like you, I wasn't in a good place," Rebecca said. "But I had a more difficult time admitting that. And I let it catch up to me."

"Don't let it happen again."

"Another thing I'm working on."

"D'you think you can work on it in England? Not America. Here. With your friends."

"I don't know yet. The fact that I'm here and not hidden up in a room refusing to see anyone is impressive."

"You would never do something like that."

Incredulous.

Rebecca gave a weak smile. "Yes, I would."

The realization she saw slowly cross his face. No, she was not everything everybody thought that she was. She wasn't even sure who she was anymore. No more constant spying, and she was training Brianne Tate in America to replace her as a spy, per the Minister's orders. Her last ordeal had made him put his foot down. She was becoming displaced from the one thing she felt she was the best at, though she detested it.

Now Remus sat forward after the long pause between them.

"I'd like to point out to you that Molly is scheming," he said slowly.

"Ron mentioned something that made me think that a while ago," Rebecca said with a nod. "But I'm not sure what it is."

"That's why you'll be surprised to hear it," Remus said, smirking. "In order to fix the both of us, she has been pushing me to personally look after you while you're here."

Rebecca's brows furrowed.

"Molly believes, like many others, that the sole reason you left was because of how Severus treated you after his trial," Remus continued. "I even thought that for a while. But as you said, we understand one another very well. And I thought about your position with the feelings I had. And then I understood. But I want you to be aware of what she's doing, so you can decide how you wish to react now."

"I'm not even sure how to react now."

"Don't be too mad at Molly," Remus said. "She's running out of children to set up."

Rebecca managed to smile. "Thanks for the warning."

Remus nodded, then stood up. "Well, I've done my good deed for the night. I'm going to bed."

"I would, but I'm not ready to have all the pictures watching me sleep." She smirked.

With a laugh, Remus made his way to the staircase. "Night, Becca."

"Good night, Remus."

Rebecca listened to his footsteps go up the stairs and over her head as he made his way to the third floor, where both of their rooms were. She sighed. Molly Weasley. Motherly, coddling, meddling. She and Narcissa Malfoy had more in common than the women could have ever thought before.

But she knew that. She'd always known that. It was another obstacle she was going to have to deal with in returning. And Molly meant well.

This was going to be an interesting summer.

* * *

"But you didn't have to cut me off, / Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing. / And I don't even need your love, / But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough. / No, you didn't have to stoop so low, / Have your friends collect your records and then change your number. / Guess that I don't need that, though, / Now you're just somebody that I used to know…. / Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over, / Part of me believing it was always something that I'd done. / But I don't wanna live that way, / Reading into every word you say. / You said that you could let it go / And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know." – Goyte "Somebody That I Used to Know"

_Ron & Hermione's Wedding & Reception, June 27, 1999_

Molly had Hermione, Ginny, and Rebecca locked up in the master bedroom on the top floor of the Burrow the morning of the wedding. The past few days had been hectic, creating decorations, making certain the dresses fit perfectly, and making sure the makeup they would be wearing was flawless.

Now, Molly was fussing over their dresses, particularly Hermione's. Then she moved to flourish her wand once more in Rebecca's direction.

"Molly, my makeup's fine," Rebecca said, holding up her hand. "If we keep trying to perfect it, everything might go back to square one."

"Becca's right," Hermione said. "Thank you so much, Molly, but really, everything is lovely."

Molly smiled. "Not as lovely as you look, dear. As you all look."

Rebecca smiled, though she felt rather silly in the pink dress. It was a soft hue, so it didn't clash too terribly with her pale coloring or bright red hair, but pink had never been a favorite color. But as she looked upon Hermione, resplendent in her flowing, white gown, hair piled on top of her head in a complex pattern, light makeup accentuating her features, it was worth it. No one could look beautiful beside her today.

Now it was time for Rebecca and Ginny to begin heading down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, they found Harry and George waiting for them in their dress robes, black with pink lining.

Harry placed his hand on Rebecca's shoulder, smiling. "You look great."

"Thanks, but I definitely don't look as good as Hermione."

Harry grinned. He removed his hand from her shoulder and leaned over to give Ginny a kiss on the cheek.

"I can't wait to see what you'll look like next week," Rebecca heard Harry say to Ginny quietly.

She and George looked at one another. George crossed his eyes at her, and Rebecca had to stifle a laugh. Finally, Harry and Ginny turned back to the two of them. Ginny looked down, blushing somewhat.

"Just try to keep it in your pants till next week, Harry," George said, patting Harry on the shoulder, "or Mum'll have a fit."

"George!" Ginny said.

Rebecca smiled, trying to hide it by looking toward the door.

When she turned back, it was Harry who was blushing.

"Uh, thanks, George," he said quietly.

"Any time, soon-to-be little brother."

Harry cleared his throat. The music began, a low tune. He turned back to Rebecca, holding out his arm. She took it immediately, and they made their way toward the door.

"There's something I've made everyone keep from you," Harry said. "And I need you to not be mad at me."

"I'm sure it's fine," Rebecca said.

"Seriously." He looked at her just as they reached the door, his hand on the knob, ready to turn and open it.

"I'm not going to stop talking to you, no matter what it is," Rebecca said. "You're always going to be related to me, and you're always going to be one of my best friends. I'll never forget that. Really."

Harry nodded. "Just keep that in mind throughout the day."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she whispered.

They stepped outside, the light pink flowers popping out of the ground to mark the aisle. There was about twenty feet before they would reach the edge of the crowd. Rebecca smiled, putting on the appropriate face for the occasion. And she was actually happy for her friends. There was no acting needed. And even among all of these people, her anxiety culled for now.

As they reached the edge of the seats, people began turning to watch their walk. Her eyes scanned the crowd, seeing that she recognized everyone. But there was one person who wasn't turning to look at them. One person who was wearing all black, as black as his long hair, brushed to perfection. Suddenly, Rebecca knew what Harry was talking about.

Then, his head turned. Black eyes pierced through the others around him, pointed directly at her. But he gave nothing away. Rebecca felt her step falter, her right knee falling under her weight. Her grip upon Harry tightened, and he stopped, his free hand reaching out to grab her left shoulder in a swift motion to steady her. Her jaw clenched, she gave a curt nod, and they continued, barely having missed a step. Rebecca trained her eyes forward, forcing her smile.

"Are you all right?"

"My knee gave out. It's the heels."

They were never what she would choose to wear on her own, but they merely helped in that situation. No one would ever truly believe it was only her knee that made her almost fall. But she had faltered, caught herself, and then had her knee give out suddenly. Still, it didn't matter. Even with Severus Snape behind her, she could feel him smirking in triumph at the rise he'd gotten from her.

But he couldn't ruin this day for her. She was here for her friends. He was here because they wanted him here, of course. He would not have shown up otherwise. But they had kept his coming from her.

They reached the alter now, where Kingsley stood grinning and Ron stood looking like the happiest man on the planet. She and Harry separated, and Rebecca took her place next to the spot that would soon hold Hermione. Harry stood beside Ron, putting his arm around his shoulder and drawing his best friend to him. George and Ginny joined them moments afterward. Rebecca turned her attention to the girl beside her, who winked. Rebecca focused her attention upon the aisle just as Hermione was stepping through the door, hoping she wouldn't regret Molly convincing the ladies to leave their wands in the Burrow.

With a muttered spell, the aisle erupted into fireworks as Hermione took her first step onto the pink flower-lined aisle. Oranges, red, pinks, and yellows sparked up into the air, and the crowd made appreciative noises as they haloed Hermione. Rebecca took a deep breath in, smiling at her handiwork. The yellow and pink sparks followed Hermione, circling her in intricate, slow patterns. The orange and red sparks preceded her down the aisle, lighting her path.

As Hermione neared the alter, the red and orange sparks rose up between her and Ron, the yellow and pinks meeting them. As the four colors met, they burst outward, making crackling noises as they did, and revealing Ron and Hermione to each other, now just a foot from the other. And their eyes could not move.

Ginny held out her hand. Rebecca slapped it with her own, allowing herself a smug look for a moment.

The ceremony was short, as both Hermione and Ron had requested. Kingsley added his own personality to it. By the end of it, he just smirked.

"Kiss her, Weasley."

Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione as hers slipped over his neck. Rebecca and George caught each other's eyes, and she nodded. George slipped his wand from his robes and muttered a spell under his breath. Hearts appeared around Ron and Hermione's heads. The applause then broke out into cheers, yelling, and laughter. When the new couple finally came out of their embrace, the hearts circled around their heads. Both of them laughed. As they began to lead the way to the tent set up across the yard in the open space beside the forest, the hearts floated before them and finally flew up in the air.

Ginny then took George's arm, then Rebecca took Harry's arm, and they followed Ron and Hermione to the tent. The wedding party congregated around the table in the front of the large tent, where they would greet the guests and accept gifts.

Up until this point, the reporters they'd chosen had been practically unseen. Now, they were very close to the wedding party, getting in what appeared to be a million snapshots before the guests entered. As soon as the first person arrived, they stood back, getting better shots of everyone giving gifts and blessings, and the wedding party accepting them gratefully.

Looking down the line, Rebecca saw him once more, sticking out like the unusual spectacle that he was. Both the reporters apparently had spotted him, too, as they began watching Rebecca intently. She rolled her eyes, keeping to her duties of placing the gifts underneath the table and drawing those who wanted to talk too long to the bride and groom away and out into the tent, where tables, chairs, a bar, a wizarding DJ, and a large dance floor awaited them all.

Finally, he was at the front of the line.

"Mr. Weasley, Mis—Mrs. Weasley," he said with a nod to both of them. "I appreciate your inviting me on this happy occasion."

"None of us would be here without you, Professor Snape," Hermione said with a smile.

"While that is very kind of you, that is more than a bit boasting of what I've done," Severus said.

"But it's the truth, professor," Harry said.

Severus' eyes met Harry's for a moment, and Rebecca thought she caught a flash of anger in Harry's direction. But he caught himself, putting on his neutrality like a suit once more. He looked back to Ron and Hermione.

"This is not much, but I wish for the two of you to have it," he said, holding out a small, wrapped box. Hermione took it from him.

"Thank you so much, professor," Hermione said, smiling. Ron was the only one who only looked mildly pleased, though it was a bit forced.

Hermione handed the box to Rebecca, who took it and knelt to place the gift below the table with all the others. A gift, something so unlike him. He was definitely up to something.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley," he said, "and, again, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley—a good day to you all."

He was perfectly civil, and that was nearly _nice_ for his personality. He turned from them, facing Rebecca just as she rose up from placing his gift underneath the table. Their eyes met once more for a brief moment, but he appeared to be staring through her. The next moment, he was turning away from her, robes billowing slightly with his slow pace.

Before she even had time to comprehend how she felt about the strange ordeal, something brushed against her back. And it was not anyone in the wedding party, who all stood to her right. This came from her left.

Rebecca reached behind her, grasping at whoever it was and pulling them forward, flipping them in front of her. Reflexively, her left hand snapped forward, as if she held her wand. Her hand nearly hit the male reporter, Steven Albright, in the nose. He shook before her, her right hand a vice grip upon his arm holding the camera.

"Do not. Sneak up on me."

She let go of him, her own hands shaking as the adrenaline rushing through her. Already the crowd was getting to her. Hermione was by her side, lifting a hand up to touch her shoulder. Rebecca raised her own, taking a step from Hermione.

"Please don't touch me," she said quietly.

"Are you all right?"

"I will be momentarily."

Albright was skittering away, trying to find other guests to take photographs of. Severus was nowhere within her line of sight. The tent siding was behind her, and Rebecca put herself as close to it as she could get without letting her dress touch it. She faced forward once more, looking to Hermione.

"I'm fine, don't worry," she said, her voice dropping down a notch.

"You don't have to stay for my behalf—"

"I _want_ to stay," Rebecca said. "I told you. I wouldn't miss this for anything." She smiled. Believable.

Hermione smiled back. Genuine. Then she turned to the others, who watched the exchange anxiously. The rest of the line went quickly, and soon they retreated to their own table, where speeches were made by the Best Man and Maid of Honor. Under the spotlight provided by the DJ, Rebecca felt exposed. But she pulled upon her spy mask once more, slipping into her easy, usual self, the part of her everyone believed they knew and could relate to.

"I met Ron and Hermione on the train to Hogwarts," she said. "While Ron and Harry found Hermione annoying, I found in her a kindred spirit. And it's a miracle that our friendship survived so much strife. But that just shows that how we all feel about one another is the truth. And no one can or could ever take that from us."

Light smatterings of applause. Rebecca waited.

"Now that I'm here, and now that I've witnessed the joining of two of my best friends… I find myself grasping for words to say." She smiled. "Except this…"

She turned to Hermione and Ron and made a huge gesture with her arms, pointing at them in the end. "Finally!"

The crowd burst into laughter. Ron and Hermione were laughing, holding onto each other's hand as they did so, Ron's arm draped across Hermione's shoulder.

"Ron and Hermione, I wish you all the best. I know you'll have many years of happiness together because Ron's finally learned to admit that you're the one who's always right."

More laughter. Hermione raised her fist in the air and gave a quick cheer.

"And know that wherever I am, I'll be looking forward to the next generation, one of many red-headed know-it-alls."

Applause from the Weasley table and laughter from the rest.

"I love you two so much. Congratulations."

Ron and Hermione stood to embrace Rebecca as she came back to the table, applause covering up their exchange from the rest.

During Potter's speech, Severus found himself much less interested in the boy. He'd had quite enough of the Boy Who Lived for a while, and he'd had about enough of this party. But he had to speak to her at some point, and he needed to watch for his opening. He'd seen the reaction she'd had when the reporter snuck up behind her, likely stopping any reaction she would have to his own treatment of her. But would she have had a reaction? Supposedly, she hated him. But when she faltered coming down the aisle with Potter at the beginning of the ceremony, Severus thought otherwise. Now, she was in rare form, the spy mask firmly in place. But Severus knew that this was not her. Not her easy humour, quick wit, or vast intelligence. This was rehearsed, a sham, unreal. And he found he hated it.

Finally, Potter was finished, and he found himself wondering at what was to happen next. There was definitely going to be dancing, and apparently there would be a cake at some point too. Now, his sights were set upon the bar that was now open. As he approached, he saw Minerva had similar ideas.

"A scotch, please," the Headmistress told the bartender.

"Firewhiskey," Severus said.

"Beginning early, Severus?"

"I am not a fan of happy engagements."

"Then why come at all? Surely you have something better you could be doing," Minerva said.

"I had little choice in the matter of my coming, unfortunately," Severus muttered.

Minerva raised both eyebrows at that as the bartender handed her the scotch. She took it.

"Thank you. What do you mean, Severus?"

"The glory of being out for the summer means that you cannot compel me to answer."

The bartender handed Severus his own drink, and the man stalked off to find the nearest corner.

On the other side of the tent, Remus approached Rebecca at the head table. "Andromeda and the Malfoys are asking after you," he said. "I'm seated with them. And you have to see how much Teddy has grown."

"Of course," Rebecca said, standing. "I'll be back in time for the next event, everyone."

Ron waved her off. Rebecca rolled her eyes and followed Remus across the tent. At the Malfoy table, Andromeda was the one to stand and hand off little Teddy to Remus and enveloped Rebecca in a careful hug that was quickly released.

"I understand your aversion to touch, but I've been waiting to do that since the fall," Andromeda said, her large grin perfectly sincere. "Thank you so much. My home is lovelier than I could have ever hoped for."

"You're most welcome," Rebecca said with a polite smile. "But please, don't mention it any longer. It will only bring back poor memories for you."

"Well, now that my sister and I are regaining our relationship, nothing can hinder that," Narcissa said, reaching forward to hold Andromeda's hand. "Please sit with us for a while, Becca."

Rebecca obliged, but soon was having trouble focusing on the conversation. She sat beside Remus, who held Teddy upon his lap. The small boy was much more interested in the tendrils of her hair that fell from the intricate knot on the top of her head than anything else. Rebecca and Remus had to disentangle her hair from the boy's grip a couple of times before Remus finally switched him onto the opposite knee, giving her an apologetic look.

Draco noticed her discomfort first. "Come with me to get a drink," he said, nodding toward her as he stood.

"Sure," Rebecca said. "Excuse us for a moment."

Rebecca followed Draco to the bartender, feeling better now that she was away from the very her-centered conversation and the overbearing, but well-meaning, Lucius and Narcissa. Even as they walked away, she could feel Remus watching her as if she might explode, as if he had any room to judge. That had been a rather nasty thought, but Rebecca found her patience was quickly shrinking.

They reached the bartender, and Draco ordered for them both before turning back to Rebecca.

"Potter didn't tell you, did he?"

"No."

"Yeah, he made us all keep it a secret, though there weren't very many who knew he would be here," Draco said. The bartender handed him Rebecca's glass of wine, which he passed to her.

"Thank you," she replied, taking it gratefully. The first sip was sweet, and she felt her shoulder relax slightly.

"I think he thought he was doing you a favour," Draco continued. "His heart was in the right place, but he needs to learn some better Slytherin tactics to reign in the master spy."

Rebecca glanced at him. "Did I just hear Draco Malfoy compliment the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"Yeah. And if you want to continue heading those bastard Americans, you'll know to keep it to yourself."

Rebecca smirked. "I missed you too, Draco." She took another sip from her glass.

Draco grinned. "See, I get none of these lovely conversations while you're away. You can't go back to America. I've decided it."

Rebecca chuckled, then attempted to force her face into a serious expression. "I forgot when the great Draco Malfoy says something, then it must be so." Her chuckles broke her seriousness.

He simply took a sip from his own wine glass. Rebecca took in the tent again for a moment, noting that Narcissa had stood and was making her way through the crowd, her intended target the dark man in the corner.

"Your mother is meddling," she muttered.

"Can you blame her?"

"How do you manage to stay so smug?"

"One of my many talents."

"Is that what Astoria told you?" Rebecca asked.

She hadn't seen Draco go that red for a long time. She gave a tight-lipped smiled as he sputtered for an answer.

"Never fear, dearest cousin, it seems our conversation will be cut short anyway, if your mother has her way," she said.

"I'll have you know that I respect Astoria."

"As if I was insulting her honor." She gave him an even look. "Seriously, Draco, you don't have to explain it to me. I was joking. You know, playing at normal?"

Draco sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "Potter's been worried about you." He paused. "So have I."

"While I appreciate your concern, Draco, I'm fine. Better than ever, actually."

"I don't think you are."

They shared a look, but Rebecca couldn't think of a way to respond. She finished the glass of wine Draco had handed her before.

"Another?"

"Sure."

Draco turned to the bartender and asked for another. After a moment, he turned back to her and handed her the second glass, plucking the other from her hand and giving it back to the bartender.

Before Rebecca could even open her mouth to thank him, Narcissa was standing before them, smiling.

"Rebecca, dear, once Mr. Potter's wedding is over, you will need to come and see all of the renovations we've put into Malfoy Manor. It's lovely."

Rebecca hesitated, trying to think of a polite way to decline. Narcissa took Rebecca's free hand and drew her closer.

"Come now, dear, don't be shy," Narcissa said. "You know you're always welcome in our home."

"I don't think that's why she's hesitating, Mother," said Draco carefully.

Narcissa gave Rebecca a look before frowning, letting go of her hand. "I'm so sorry, Rebecca. What if I were to convince someone else to come along with you, to help?"

"If you're suggesting Professor Snape, don't even bother," Rebecca said, shrugging out of the woman's attempts to comfort her.

It was nearly time for her to perform, as she'd been practicing for the whole summer. She made her way through the crowd, skirting as many of them as she could to get to the head table. She set her wine glass down and prepared herself mentally.

Severus watched the room, noting the piano at the front of the room, near the DJ and directly before the dance floor. His encounter with Narcissa Malfoy had started pleasantly enough before soon turning to simply irritating. The witch had tried to convince him to follow her across the room, back toward her son and Rebecca Felan, but he'd made as though someone was calling for him, as unlikely as that was, and excused himself. He was not to be trifled with right now.

He stared at the front of the room for a moment longer, realizing that it was the piano the Malfoys had given _her_ on her birthday the year before.

At that moment, he saw her walking toward it. Though he personally hated pink, the dress was flattering. And he could not deny it. The way it melded to her curves, where it hit her at her thighs, just long enough to be wedding-appropriate. Her hair was done up in a bun, something she probably did not enjoy. Almost all of her scars were exposed, and he could see she'd gotten some new ones, long and jagged. The Dark Mark, too, shone brightly as she walked into the spotlight. But she looked almost comfortable. Almost.

He sipped on his Firewhiskey, watching from his dark corner. She magically magnified her voice once more.

"If I can have everyone's attention," she said. The room went quiet in a few minutes. "Thanks. I really didn't know what to get Ron and Hermione for their wedding. So the girls of the wedding party had a chat the other night, and I told them my idea. Hermione was receptive, so this is my gift to them. Their first dance."

Applause as the couple stood and began making their way to the dance floor.

"Forgive me if my piano-playing skills are perhaps a bit shoddy," Rebecca said. "I've been playing more often to regain some dexterity in my dominant arm after an accident a few months ago, but that doesn't mean it's gotten much better." Chuckling throughout the crowd. "Ron, Hermione, this song is for you. Congratulations again."

More polite applause to fill the gap while the wedded couple gaining their position on the dance floor and Rebecca her own at the piano bench. Her back was to the open air, the piano facing sideways so it would open toward the dance floor and be more easily heard. But as soon as she sat upon the bench, Severus watched a change come over her. No more mask, no more acting. And past the light dusting of makeup, the dress, the hair, and everything about her now that didn't seem normal, he saw her. The green eyes softened as they peered upon her friends, already poised to begin dancing. She smiled, and it was radiant. Severus found he couldn't move.

Then, she turned back to the piano, taking up her position. The first notes to ring out were unfamiliar. The tune was soft, but powerful. She didn't falter, not here. When she opened her mouth and began to sing, Severus nearly dropped his glass. He'd forgotten about her voice, sweet, sincere, and so on-pitch.

"Look into my eyes, you will see what you mean to me. Search your heart, search your soul, and when you find me there, you'll search no more. Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for. You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for. You know it's true everything I do, I do it for you."

Severus watched her, unable to move or take his eyes from her. It did not matter if anyone saw him, but he suspected no one would. They were too busy watching the newlyweds. But she was far more entrancing, even as he hated to admit it.

"Look in your heart, you will find there's nothing there to hide. Take me as I am, take my life. I would give it all, I would sacrifice. Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for. I can't help it, there's nothin' I want more. You know it's true everything I do, I do it for you."

The rest of the song played out like this, with Severus in a mesmerized state. His Firewhiskey forgotten, all else fading away. The woman that he had come to know appeared before him once more, but she was so far out of his reach in so many ways imaginable. He no longer wished to be something she desired toward; he didn't deserve her kindness or anything that she had to offer. She didn't deserve to be held back, so he must push her farther away to show the little kindness he had.

"There's no love like your love, and no other could give more love. There's nowhere unless you're there, all the time, all the way."

But at that moment, he would have given anything to hold her, to speak with her, to have it be as it was before she had to admit whatever feelings she'd convinced herself she had. But it couldn't be.

"Oh, you can't tell me it's not worth tryin' for. I can't help it, there's nothin' I want more. Yeah, I would fight for you, I'd lie for you. Walk the wire for you. Yeah, I'd die for you… You know it's true, everything I do, I do it for you."

For an instant, on the last, draw-out note, her eyes flicked away from her friends and up to meet his, as if she knew exactly where he was. Then, her eyes looked back to the newlyweds on the dance floor. But in that moment, Severus felt struck by her power, even in her weakened state. She couldn't have known he would be here, at this wedding, but her song choice could not have been more perfect to create new feelings of guilt, remorse, and anger building up inside of him.

The song was over, and applause filled the tent as the piano and her voice faded out. The newlyweds kissed, and there were shouts and hollering added to the volume inside the tent. Severus clenched his jaw.

She stood and bowed, removed herself quickly from the spotlight. The DJ, on cue, began a new song, one from a wizarding band that was popular at the moment. And the dance floor filled. She was lost in the crowd.

Severus finished off his Firewhiskey, having shaken most of his annoying emotions, then returned to the bar for another. How to approach her. She would be staying as far away from the crowd as she could get, most likely, and she most certainly wouldn't be seeking him out.

While waiting for his refill, he spotted her speaking to the Malfoys, all of them smiling at her. But her smile, though genuine, looked off. He couldn't pinpoint the reason for this.

"Severus, thank Merlin I've found you," Minerva said, suddenly coming up from behind him.

He raised an eyebrow. "What seems to be the trouble now, Minerva?"

"Horace. He's told me that he's resigned his position." The witch's lips were thinner than a sewing needle, and her hands were shaking. "Oh, that man! He said he was going to wait to inform me, but Filius claims he's had too much to drink already. Honestly, it's only been an hour. He must have been drinking before he even got here!"

Severus' brows began to furrow. "I think I don't wish to hear what you're going to next suggest to me."

"Yes, but you have to listen to it," Minerva said, her tone sharp. "Miss Felan is the only one beside yourself who is even remotely qualified for this position. And we're in need of a new Transfiguration professor in any case, since Percy could only stay on for the year. We're running out of options, Severus."

"I do not see why you must inform me on such a joyous occasion," Severus said, taking the Firewhiskey offered to him. "I haven't even had my second drink yet."

"You are my Deputy Headmaster, Severus, and I need for you to act as such for a moment."

"Fine. What do you wish for me to do?"

"Speak with her. Whatever is between you has to get resolved if she's to want to step foot in the castle," Minerva said quickly.

"This cannot be resolved kindly," Severus said.

"Clear the air, Severus. Miss Felan is a rational human being, and she will listen to you if for no other reason than she respects you."

"You honestly believe that, after hearing what Miss—damn it—Mrs. Weasley wrote in her letter to Percy?" Severus snapped. "I extended an offering of well-wishes, and she burns my letter, without the use of a wand or words, on her sick bed. Respect has been thrown out the window."

Minerva stared at him. "If you cannot convince her, you will have to return to your old post as Potions Master and I will need to find another less-than-qualified Defense instructor _again_. I'll have a tough enough time locating a Transfiguration professor, Severus."

"And I thought we were supposed to have a lovely outing today," he replied, sipping upon his Firewhiskey. "Work must always come first, it seems."

"In this situation, it does. Get her to agree, Severus. And once she does, it will be you that trains her. I won't be sending her off to America only to have them change her mind again."

"A moment, Minerva. You're suggesting—"

"Not another word, Severus. You will do as I tell you. I am your Headmistress, and this is a dire situation. Get Rebecca to agree and train her yourself."

The witch spun on her heel, leaving Severus clutching the glass tightly. He stopped himself before breaking it this time, luckily. He moved off toward the nearest empty table, taking a seat with his back against the wall. He'd lost her to the crowd once more, but he was in no rush to have to put himself in that sort of awkward conversation. Finishing off the Firewhiskey would prepare him for the necessary amount of neutrality he would need. Or so he hoped.

He spotted Narcissa Malfoy walking through the crowd, Rebecca looking perturbed as she was being held calmly by her wrist and toted after the older witch.

"Severus, hiding in a corner as usual," Narcissa said, smiling to indicate her joking tone. "I've just been speaking with Rebecca on how wonderfully she played, then I saw you sitting here by yourself. We thought we'd offer you some company."

Rebecca said nothing, but deftly removed her wrist from Narcissa's grip. She held her clasped hands before her, not looking at him.

"How kind," Severus said, words slightly clipped. He glanced to her, but her eyes still looked everywhere else but at him. "I was just told that I needed to speak with Miss Felan myself."

"I see you've remembered my name."

Her eyes finally turned upon him, and Severus could catch no hint of emotion there. Her mask was on once more, and he regretted for a moment having to force her to put it there. Severus cleared his throat, deciding to stand at that moment. She stood her ground, watching him. Narcissa looked between them, sensing the tension. Probably, she wondered how she could alleviate it and return the conversation to something more flippant or less dark.

"Oh, Rebecca dear, I'm sure Severus meant nothing by it."

"Professor Snape has a history of saying exactly what he means and nothing short of it," Rebecca said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, as I tried to say before, I'm needed at the cake."

Without another glance in his direction, she walked away, leaving Narcissa looking after her. Severus watched the young woman vanish into the crowd once more. Cold, precise. Exactly how he'd taught her. Too much so. He put her on her guard, made her careful. He still got to her, and he could utilize that to his advantage.

Narcissa turned back to him. "Severus, whatever this is needs to end."

"I will do my best, Narcissa, but it relies on Miss Felan being receptive."

"Did you really need to speak to her?"

"It seems Hogwarts is in need of a Potions Master, though you did not hear that. I suspect Minerva does not want it spreading."

"Oh, dear. Well, you'll have a difficult time of convincing Rebecca in her state, poor thing."

Severus chose to remain silent. He knew just what kind of state her mind was in, perhaps much better than most everyone in attendance, even her best friends. Narcissa gave a sigh.

"Before this is over, come speak with us tonight. Lucius and I want to invite you out to the Manor, since you've been remiss in your communications with us this past year."

"Very well," Severus said with a nod.

Narcissa was gone, then, as well.

But the music cut off nearly as soon as he turned around to take his seat again. The DJ called for attention, and the bridal party was upon the stage, a huge cake before them all.

Rebecca held out a plate, smiling as Hermione and Ron held onto his wand, carefully muttering the spell to cut their first slice of cake. Once it was cut, Rebecca swooped in to catch the piece, then proffered it to the newlyweds. Kindly, they fed each other, though Hermione joked she could catch Ron off-guard by simply pushing it into his plate.

Now, Rebecca helped them hand out the pieces of the cake to all who wanted some. More toasts were delivered by well-wishers. Rebecca was tired of the noise. Of the occasional touch of others upon her hand, her fingers, against her when they were trying to get some cake. But she kept herself in check. She held herself together, still hating the loudness of the crowd, the cheers and applause. Finally, it was all over, and she retreated once more to a secluded corner, where she sat in the corner, her back to the wall, arms over her chest. Her friends were all right, dancing upon the open space once more. They wouldn't spare her an extra thought for a while now, too wrapped up in their own happiness. And she would be there when they needed her, but she couldn't leave, no matter how much she wanted to.

She sighed, then closed her eyes and attempted to meditate, to push out the sounds from around her, to forget the people, to just calm down.

Rebecca was unsure of how long she sat like that, attempting to block the music, the crowd, and everything around her, when she heard others approaching the table. She opened her eyes to behold Slughorn stumbling around, Flitwick doing his best to help the much larger wizard about.

"Miss Felan!" Slughorn exclaimed as they came closer to the table. The drink in his hand was nearly to the brim, and Rebecca wondered how many he'd had already. "So good to see you again, my dear!"

"The pleasure is all mine, sir."

"Horace!" he said. "Call me Horace, m'dear. I'm no longer your professor. No longer _anyone's_ professor. And Dumbledore's not here anymore to scheme otherwise." He looked smug, then took a deep drink from his glass.

Rebecca gave Flitwick a confused look. "Horace has resigned, as it were," the smaller man said with a roll of his eyes. He paused, pushing against Horace so the larger man finally took a seat. Flitwick hopped up onto the chair next to her and offered her a soft smile. "You're looking well, Miss Felan. Are you no longer in need of my charm?"

"No longer, sir, but it was more than useful in its time," Rebecca said, her hand going to her Dark Mark self-consciously. She covered it.

"Filius."

"Filius. Thank you."

She watched Slughorn for a while, but he seemed content watching the lights and the people dancing. Rebecca looked back to Flitwick.

"He's resigned?"

"Just told Minerva in a fit of drunkenness," said Flitwick with a smirk. "I've seen worse resignations. But Horace has been teaching a long time, and the war affects everyone in different ways. Moreover, his collection of students is dwindling."

Rebecca nodded. "I can understand how that would be tough on someone like him."

Something in Flitwick's eyes gave away that his attention had diverted from her for a moment, to something past her, on the other side of the tent. From his position, he would be able to see much from that angle.

"I believe you're being scouted as a potential candidate, Rebecca," he said. "I thought I should let you know so you might steel yourself for the talk I imagine you're about to receive."

"I appreciate the warning, Filius."

He nodded. "I figured you would. As I said, the war affects us all differently. And there's no shame in that." He smiled once more.

Slughorn, by this point, had apparently grown bored of simply sitting and had chosen to stand once more.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to deal with Horace," Flitwick said. "Hopefully I can get him home with little trouble."

"Yes, of course."

Rebecca looked after the old Ravenclaw. He saw much more than many of his students would give him credit for. She knew there had been a reason she had always liked him. And his words had been kind enough to spark a small amount of tears to come to her eyes. He'd been one of the first to see her after the accident, and had always treated her with kindness, even in her final year when she was thought to have changed sides. He was also a very fierce speaker on behalf of both her and Severus at their trials. Rebecca pushed back the tears, keeping her composure.

Suddenly, the DJ's voice was magically enhanced once more. "Okay, witches and wizards, the moment you've all been waiting for," he said. "It's that time of the night, on request of the bride and groom, for the oldest of the wedding traditions… The Dark Dance."

Rebecca paused, trying to recall the tradition from her studies. But nothing came to mind. From the cheers of the male population and the groans of the female, she decided she wasn't going to enjoy this.

"Ah, yes, judging by the crowd's response, you all know about the Dark Dance." The DJ had a sly grin on his lips that Rebecca wanted to smack right off of him. "But just in case some of you aren't familiar with this tradition, here you have it. The Dark Dance dates back to 1426 and its concept is very simple. The lights go down and the ladies will remain in the dark. Every gentleman gets his pick of a lovely lady to spin around the floor a time or two before the light-trick—as it was so called at the Royal Duchess' wedding in 1772—will switch, and the men will find themselves unable to see as the ladies have their pick!"

The dark. Unable to see. Unable to protect herself. Why hadn't they warned her of this, of all things? She could feel her hands, gripped tightly upon her arms just above her elbows, holding onto herself so tightly that her nails dug uncomfortably into her skin.

"All right, gentlemen, here we go!"

Then the tent fell pitch black. Rebecca could see nothing. She kept her breathing even as she heard shuffling in front of her. Her back was to the wall, she reminded herself. She would be fine here.

"Every gentleman must have a partner, so don't be shy!" the DJ said.

Rebecca thought that she would be safe here, in the corner of the large tent. No one would come to seek her out. Even still, her heart pounded in her chest as her anxiety rose.

A strong grip fell upon her wrist. Rebecca rose, extending her arm towards the figure she couldn't see, instincts kicking in where her common sense would have told her to remain calm. A second hand caught her fist easily and lowered it gently. The strong scent of aconite and unidentifiable aftershave made it to her nose. Her body relaxed minutely, recognizing the scent. Even as her mind kicked into overdrive, recovering from the rush of adrenaline, she could feel the rough hands upon her own, could feel his silent tension.

"Professor Snape," she said quietly. "You were the last person I expected."

His left hand remained clasped over her right, but then he moved it into the proper dancing position. His right hand slipped about her waist, drawing her closer as he moved them towards the dance floor she couldn't see. Her heart raced once more, her senses slightly dulled by the feel of him, his scent, and all the memories it brought. To think she had wanted this at one point. To think she'd been more than willing to subject herself to this illusion.

But his hand was trembling, and she had not noticed that before. _Why?_ she wondered. Why would his hand be trembling? Perhaps he was enraged at the thought of touching her. Maybe she was the lesser of all the women now, seeing as he had touched her quite a lot the previous year. She felt very vulnerable, here in the dark, unable to read his facial expressions (or lack thereof) or even to try to gauge his feelings from his eyes, something she had learned how to do. She was at a distinct disadvantage, and she hated it.

What she hated more was that his scent comforted her. Merlin, was she weak, and it was pathetic. But she also knew something that he didn't. If he continued to harass her, she would be able to end this mess once and for all. Hopefully, it would sever any lingering feelings she had for the man.

"It would seem a compliment to my person, Miss Felan, that you recognize me," his disembodied voice said, his tone neutral except the slight hint of mirth. "That I have schooled you so well in recognition of others or that your pathetic schoolgirl crush has yet to fade. Either way, your flattery is _simply_ astonishing."

Rebecca nearly lashed out at him, but the hand upon her waist brought her closer to him, made their chests brush against one another for the slightly moment. Rebecca took in a quick breath before pushing against him with her hand upon his shoulder, putting the distance back between them.

"It has been brought to my attention that Minerva is intending to apprentice you to me for the remainder of the summer in the hopes that you will agree to take over the post for the recently vacated position of Potions Master."

Rebecca could feel how close he was to her, how he nearly towered over her with his superior height. The heels offered her extra leverage in that regard. His breath she could feel somewhat against her cheek, though other times she could not. What was he doing? Her lack of vision couldn't offer her that answer, so she concentrated. The hair hanging upon the side of her face was moving slightly. He inhaled deeply when he was not speaking, as if he were trying to memorize a scent.

Suddenly, she understood. He was on the verge of cherishing this moment. To what end, she wasn't sure. Perhaps to remind himself of it later, so that he could get a good laugh from torturing her. She wasn't going to allow that.

"Have you thoughts on the matter, Miss Felan? It would seem my preference in the situation matter very little to Minerva."

But before she could answer, his grip upon her had tightened once more, pulling her suddenly back against him. The damned dress she wore had practically all of her skin open to the touch of others. The coarseness of his dress robes pressed against her once more, and Rebecca felt startled by the exhilaration she felt from it.

Her lips opened to tell him to stop. Their close proximity was making her uncomfortable. But that would've been a lie, at least in part, and he would see it for what it was. He would use it against her, use it to berate her. She kept silent, the hand upon his shoulder coaxing the distance between them once more. This extra distance, no matter how small it was, was both helpful and felt like miles.

As she looked toward the dark area where she knew his face was, Rebecca thought about what she would give to be able to see into his thoughts right now. But that would break the trust between them that she had agreed to. That she had already broken, she reminded herself. Often, she wondered how he had felt about her supposed first time being with Marcus Flint. Did it cause him any thoughts at all? Pain? Annoyance? Certainly he had been angry, but there had never been a distinct answer as to why. It couldn't have been because of any feelings toward her, but perhaps his sense to protect her.

But that is not what this grip felt like. Protective though it was, never would Harry, Ron, Remus, or Arthur Weasley hold her like this. And they had always been the most protective of her, especially when arriving back on British soil. The trip to Diagon Alley to visit George's shop had been painful. All of the open stares and critical looks. The few times she was asked to sign autographs. Mostly, the people flocked around Harry. And that was fine. That was as it should have been. She could not take all of the interest, all of the stares, all of the questions. He was more suited to that. She was behind-the-scenes.

"Well, Miss Felan?"

Her mind was wandering, and that was not good. Her brain was working overtime. Maybe his was, too. They were much more alike than he probably would like to admit. At his words, she smirked, uncaring if he could see it or not.

"Minerva must have little care for my feelings in the matter as well, seeing as she hasn't come to ask my opinion herself," Rebecca said a touch too scathingly. "I am happy with my job." A half-truth, something that he may or may not detect, depending upon how closely he was paying attention. "In my spare time, I am able to do as I please, which includes studying potions and transfiguration, and aiding those new Aurors who need extra help in the subjects to pass their final tests."

She left the next question left unsaid: Why would I want to teach at Hogwarts? More importantly: Why would I want to teach at Hogwarts with _you_? Hopefully, she had put the right amount of arrogance into her tone in order to fool him.

Rebecca felt him move once more. His hand left her waist, and suddenly fingers brushed the back of her neck. Her spine went rigid.

"Minerva insisted that you are the perfect, and perhaps only, candidate for the job," he said. "And, aside from her insistence, it appears that you already meet most of the qualifications and would simply need a bit more training before brewing your final potion and having it approved by the Ministry."

His fingers traced her beating pulse up her neck before lingering for a moment at her jaw line. Rebecca stayed perfectly still, staring defiantly in the place she figured his eyes would be. Finally, his hand fell back to her waist.

"If the manner in which you passed the Mastery exam is any testament to your abilities and you choose not to accept Minerva's offer, I can only assume you too much of a coward to continue." He paused, letting that sink in. "So, Miss Felan, are you a coward, or simply an idiot?"

"While I'm flattered that Minerva thinks so highly of me, I had no true desire to complete my Mastery certification," she said.

But her heart pounded at the prospect of being so close to him again, at the thought of spending more time with him. To return to their former state… But that could never be.

"You of all people should know that I am a coward now, professor," Rebecca whispered, barely able to open her mouth to respond. She couldn't take any more of his deliberate flaunting, his want to chide her for ever having harboured feelings for him. He would never stop.

"I'm so cowardly that I have returned to my home country by sheer force of duty to my best friends," she said. "I cannot remain here with so many deaths, so many crimes, on my hands. I am not the same woman who left this time last year. I am broken, as Tom Riddle wanted me on our first meeting. Perhaps as you wanted me to be… _sir_."

Their bodies were still so close, and she could feel the heat radiating from him. How much heat came from her? Could he sense how much her body wanted to react to his, even still, after everything she'd done to rid herself of those thoughts and feelings? But she couldn't pull away from him, no matter how hard she tried to do so.

He was silent for a long time. Rebecca had no idea what he could possibly be thinking. The song was nearly over when he pushed himself against her once more, holding her in place so that the fronts of their bodies were touching. Rebecca held her breath, tensing at the anger she could feel coming. His breath she felt against her ear, his lips so close they nearly brushed it as they moved to form his words.

"Surely you are not so broken as to be the coward you claim to be," he whispered, "lest you truly wish to disappoint me, Rebecca."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart hammering against her chest. A slight turn of his head, and his lips nearly brushed hers. She could feel him, so close. Tantalizing, awfully so. Cruel. Just as he always was.

The lights returned, blinding her momentarily. "That's your song!" the DJ boomed.

He had moved away from her just before the lights returned, and Rebecca watched him give a polite bow.

"All right, ladies, step away from your men and get ready for your turn! Remember, they won't be able to see you just like you couldn't see them!" the DJ said. "Here we go in five… four…"

"It would seem, Miss Felan, that you must choose a dance partner."

He slipped away through the crowd, and Rebecca felt her arms cross over her chest once more as the room was plunged into darkness. Her mind raced, and she needed some fresh air. She couldn't think, could barely understand what had just happened. It wasn't necessary for him to continue to torment her.

She made her way through the crowd, able to see much better than half the tent's population. Finally, she found the person she could count on, who would not be looking to dance, who would be willing to help her. And now she desperately needed help.

She touched Remus' wrist gently, as if unsure of his reaction. He turned in her general direction.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not—"

"Remus," she said, "I need to get some air, and I don't want to be alone."

"Rebecca? What's the matter?"

"Not here."

She saw him reaching out, attempting to find her in the dark, and she forgot that he couldn't see. Tentatively, she reached out and took his hand, then led the way out of the tent. Once outside, it was much easier for them both to see, even with the new moon. She dropped his hand upon leaving the tent, moving a few feet away from him, away from the noise inside the tent.

"You look out of sorts," Remus said, turning to her and keeping his distance. "Is everything all right?"

"No. He just danced with me. I-I don't know what sort of sick game he's playing. But I just needed some air to try and think."

"Severus."

"Yes. Minerva wants me to take over as Potions Mistress. Slughorn's resigned just tonight. She sent him to recruit me. But he's toying with me. And I don't appreciate it."

"Don't concern yourself over him. He is a difficult man at best to understand." He paused, looking her over. She wasn't shaking, but she didn't look herself. It was hard to pin-point, as he'd never seen her in such a state. "We'll stay here until you're feeling better."

"Just until he leaves," she said quietly.

Severus found the bartender once more in the dark, annoyed that she had not sought him out. What she had said had been true, then. She was a coward, just as she called herself. The girl he had trained would have followed him if only to continue their conversation. But she was not there. And this was disconcerting.

He took the double scotch all in one gulp, trying not to recollect the taunting he'd not only given her, but himself by dancing with her. Her skin was still so soft, her hair radiant even in the dimmest lighting. The scent of her had nearly driven him mad. This remarkable scent that was so her, the subtle perfume, and even the hint of the makeup she wore upon her face. Her lips had been just before his. And they would have been all too sweet to kiss, just as her saving kiss had been to him.

He had two more double scotches before the song was over, staying beside the bartender so as not to cause more of a stir trying to find the exit.

Severus thought about how he'd taken this strong woman and brought her so low, to the point where she would not even seek him out to make him answer her, when he would have been at her mercy, unable to see and unable to do anything. But it wasn't entirely his fault. He knew that. But at the same time, he could have prevented her from delving so deeply into this… whatever she had become. She had come to him, hoping he would be her one last safety net. And he had so thoroughly rebuked her she'd gone to a different continent. If he had only not been as harsh. If he had simply given in to what she'd wanted… But that would've been unfair to the both of them, especially to her. But was this any fairer?

Finally, the wretched song was over. Severus made his way to the exit, uncaring of bidding anyone farewell. The alcohol quickly flooded his bloodstream, and though his gait was mostly normal (aside from his now pronounced limp from having stood too long upon his leg), his vision was definitely blurred somewhat.

He pushed aside the tent flap, stepped outside, and found himself facing her and the wolf. He was comforting her, coddling her, just like they all did.

They turned to look at him, as they were standing only ten feet away from the entrance to the tent.

"It would seem with the consorts you keep, that Minerva was misplaced in thinking you would be any sort of good for the students," Severus said, sneering. "A pathetic, broken girl like yourself deserves someone equally as pathetic."

He turned and stalked away into the darkness, but suddenly she was in front of him, and the wolf was nowhere in sight. When had his movements gotten so slow?

"I don't care what you say about me," she said, pushing into his personal space. "You will _never_ insult my friends." Her growling tones nearly mimicked his own that he'd used against students.

He stopped just before her, unable to continue.

"If I wanted someone as equally pathetic as myself, I would still want _you_," she said, throwing his sneer right back at him. "All you have is sarcasm and disdain for anyone around you. So while I may be a coward, at least I'm not alone."

Severus grabbed her wrists, pulling her body against his once more. She struggled to break his grasp, twisting her wrists at once. When her hands were free, she gave him a good shove in the chest, and he caught a good glimpse of her muscles flexing throughout her upper body as she moved. Severus stumbled back, falling upon the ground as she remained standing behind him. He rushed to retain his footing, his cloak encumbering him, the drinks he'd taken hindering him. Where was his bloody wand?

"Don't think for a second you're fooling anyone with your angry outburst like a moody teenager," he said, finally turning to look at her. "If you were over everything, you wouldn't be chasing me."

"I won't let you insult my friends like that," she said. "This has nothing to do with us."

"Such a bloody Gryffindor," Severus said, shaking his head. "And you're a terrible liar. It shames me to think that I was such a poor teacher to produce you."

"A poor teacher you were, attacking your student then and now," she said, stepping toward him, invading his space once more. "You must have heard I burned that letter you sent me. A poor excuse at trying to wish me well. After everything, a simple letter. You thought a letter would actually get me to forgive you? To what, start conversing with you as though nothing had happened? I cannot _stand_ you."

This time, she was not prepared for him to grab her once more. Severus wanted to shut her infernal mouth. There would be no one around to stop him. His reflexes, minutely slowed as they were by his alcohol consumption, still took her by surprise. He grabbed both of her wrists in his hands, forcing them into the stronger grip of his right hand. With his now free one, he pulled her against him, crushing her chest against his. Her arms were at an awkward angle now, somehow pinned between the two of them, his hand still tightly holding her wrists. Her arms and his were pointed downward, held between their bodies. His nostrils flared as he stared at her.

The tension in the air was palpable. Rebecca didn't move, not wanting to spark his anger even more. Quickly, her mind rifled through any number of the moves she'd learned as to how to break grips, but nothing was quite like this. The panic of being trapped slowly rose within her, even as her mind recognized the irate man before her as someone she could have, at one time, trusted with her life. There was so much confusion between her baser instincts and her own consciousness, trying to determine how she should react to him.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his words slow to form. "And if I had not failed you, you would be better at hiding your feelings for me."

"You can't always be right," Rebecca said, clenching her jaw. She could smell the alcohol on him, just as she could that night that seemed so long ago. She struggled against his grip, but couldn't move. Her arms were useless in this position. "The war is over. There's no more spying. We don't have to protect each other anymore."

"You never were protecting me, stupid chit."

She pushed against him, but he held her tighter, his grip on her wrists crushing. The bones rubbed together, and Rebecca grunted with the discomfort.

"Wasn't I?" she asked. "Why the hell did I save your life, then? That wasn't all because of the Life Debt. That wasn't anything except for my own actions. I was saving you from your own bloody self, Severus Snape, just like I did when I lied to you."

"You did not lie to me except about Greyback," he said, his face suddenly much closer, teeth bared. "I would've known had you lied to me."

"You didn't know about this lie." She kept her features still, her eyes narrowed, and she didn't move.

"What could you have possibly lied about that you think was some means of protecting me?" he asked. He was extremely focused, but his grip upon her did not lighten.

"You want the truth? Fine," she said. "I loved you so much that I lied to save myself. For you. I didn't sleep with Flint. I used the memory of Pansy's first time with Draco and substituted myself and Flint in it to fool you. Then I wouldn't have to go through with it, not with him, not with anyone. I risked our lives in the hopes that you would want me after everything, after the war."

The sneer had returned. Slowly, it seemed, her words dawned upon him. She could feel him shaking as he held her. Then, she was propelled backwards. Her arms flew outward, steadying herself, slowing her momentum. Finally, she could stand straight, and she turned her attention back to him. He was glaring, his lips so narrow that she could barely see him. His black eyes nearly glowed, even in the dim lighting.

Rebecca looked away from him, reaching over to push the strap of her dress back in its place upon her shoulder. She glanced back at him, and he had not given up on his stance nor his expression.

"Speechless? I believe that's a first, professor," she said.

"You have no idea what sort of idiot you are," he said, his voice quiet, deadly.

"I've had more than a year to think about exactly what type of an idiot I am. Especially the past few months. So you're wrong again."

"You would have jeopardized everything we'd done on some fantasy?" His voice shook slightly.

Rebecca shrugged. "Moronic," she said.

"You would have died in the most horrible possible way, and then I would have been just behind you. You risked both our lives."

"Exactly why I lied to you."

His head was swimming with all of these new facts. This information was something he'd thought inconceivable, and in his slightly drunken state, it was something his mind was taking and sprinting with. Still untouched. For him. All for him. After everything. Suddenly, all of his dreams about her returned to him, and he had to fight very hard to maintain his place this far from her. But he was still so angry, above everything else.

"Tell Minerva I'm not interested," Rebecca said after a long pause between them once more. "I won't step foot back into Hogwarts, particularly with a potential colleague who detests me. I'm fine where I am."

She turned from him, showing the dip the dress took down her back. The scarred Dark Mark upon the base of her neck danced as she walked away from her, her paces measured, her own limp distinct even in the night sky. And Severus would not go after her, just as he didn't so many other times before. He was so incredibly furious and so awfully confused all at the same time. A pounding headache would be the result of all of this tomorrow.

* * *

_Harry & Ginny's Wedding, July 7, 1999_

Rebecca felt pretty lucky that she didn't have to wait in the room with Molly, Ginny, Hermione, and Charlie. There was certain to be lots of fussing over her dress, makeup, and hair, much like last week. And she wasn't sure how much of that she could stand. Hermione had made Rebecca her project for about an hour while Molly was still preparing Ginny, but Ron had come into the room to fetch Rebecca downstairs.

"I don't think I've loved you anymore than I do now," Rebecca said under her breath as they made their way down the stairs.

Ron smirked. "Careful, Becca, I'm a married man."

"Ha-ha."

Now they waited, Rebecca glad for the dark green dress, even if the halter top left little enough to the imagination as far as her breasts were concerned. The color was at least complementary all around, not like the pink. Molly had picked it because it suited Ginny's hair and Harry's eyes, and neither had objections to the darker color. Rebecca also preferred her hair as it was now: down, slightly curled—another of Hermione's touches. The green eye shadow accentuated her eyes, and the blush showed how pale she was, but at least there wasn't too much makeup. It made her face itchy.

Harry could barely hold still, the smile never leaving his face. She and Ron looked at each other, giving one another a curt nod. They'd planned out some interesting things for this ceremony, just as she, Ginny, and George had planned the neat spells for last week's ceremony.

"Is your present going to be another song?" Harry asked, looking to Rebecca as he finally paused his movements.

"Well, Mr. Ruiner of Fun, if you really want to spoil everything, I'll just tell you the name of it, too," Rebecca said.

"No, you're right, sorry," Harry said, beginning to pace once more.

"Shouldn't you be making your way to the alter, mate?" Ron asked. "Mum won't be so happy if you pace a hole in her floor."

"Right. I'll go out and wait. See you two in a few minutes!"

Rebecca smiled, shaking her head as Harry left.

Luckily, after that, everything went smoothly. She and Ron walked down the aisle with Charlie and Hermione, respectively, at the same time. Once she and Ron made it to the alter, standing beside Harry, Ron slipped their wands out from his dress robes and handed Rebecca hers quickly.

As soon as Ginny stepped out, each of them cast their designated spell, Ron's wand pointed at Harry and Rebecca's at Ginny. Red lions danced about the bride, reflecting the colors off of her dress prettily. Golden lions prowled about Harry. When they met, the lions co-mingled, sending Gryffindor colors in a five-foot radius about the couple. Kingsley kept this ceremony brief as well. As Kingsley proclaimed them wizard and wife, Harry leaned in to kiss Ginny. The lions from Ron and Rebecca's spells embraced one another. They seemed to melt into one another, but reappeared on opposing sides as the couple separated. As the crowd applauded the newlyweds, the figures formed into a red stag and a golden horse.

"Impressive bit of spellwork," Kingsley said, leaning over to speaking to Rebecca.

She shrugged. "I consulted Professor Flitwick on the finer details. Lots of trial and error."

As the wedding party made their way toward the tent once more, Rebecca caught a glimpse of the dark man once more in the crowd. He was not shy about meeting her gaze and holding it now. Really, it was more of a glower. But his features and the look in his eyes were two different things. His eyes showed many things, but mostly interest—in her. Rebecca, unthinkingly, moved away from him, bumping into Charlie, who gave her a curious look.

"Sorry," she said. "Clumsy." She gave a sheepish smile, and the older Weasley snorted as they continued walking.

Inside the tent, once more Rebecca was standing behind the table, Charlie at the end of the table and Ron standing beside her, Hermione next to him, and then Ginny and Harry. The guests came up, giving well-wishes and gifts. Once more, he appeared in the line, waiting patiently. This present was simply draped in a purple cloth of some kind.

Finally, he was at the front of the line, looking at Harry in a way Rebecca couldn't read. He held out the gift, and Harry took it.

"I figured this was better in your hands, Potter, than inside my family home any longer," Rebecca heard Severus Snape say. "It belonged to your mother. It's something you and your new wife can use."

Harry stared at his old Potions Master for a long moment before finally shifting the gift into his left hand. He held out his right.

"Thank you, sir."

Severus considered this gesture, but finally shook the boy's hand. Harry relinquished his grip, lifting the purple cloth from the gift. A photo album, very old and burned about the edges. Harry looked up, mouth slightly open, though a question could not form. Ginny put a hand on his shoulder.

"I rescued it from the wreckage the night you first defeated the Dark Lord," Severus said quietly. "I had no right to keep it, but it held some photographs that I longed to see again. But I have no use for it any longer, and you are its rightful owner. She enchanted it, I believe, to expand to allow further generations to add to it."

"Professor Snape, I can't thank you enough for this."

"I don't need your thanks, Potter," Severus replied, perhaps a bit harshly. "I wish you and Mrs. Potter well." He nodded to both of them, then moved down the table. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, good day."

He stopped in front of her, and Rebecca met his gaze, assessing her. Somewhere off to Charlie's side, she could hear the clicking of a camera.

"Miss Felan." He gave a half-bow in her direction. "And Mr. Weasley." Another nod.

Then he was gone. Rebecca stared after him, trying not to let her confusion show too much. Ron leaned over, nudging her gently.

"Care to tell us what's going on between you and the scary ex-Potions Master?"

"In your dreams, Weasley," Rebecca replied with a roll of her eyes. "Your mum wants to marry me off to Remus, in any case, if you hadn't heard."

"Yeah, well, she hasn't been doing as good a job at that if that's what she wants," Ron said with a shrug.

"Neither of us is interested, thanks for asking."

"It's not me you should be worried about. I learned not to muck with you a long time ago. All I've gotta say is I've never seen him act like that before."

"Like what?"

"Normal."

"You _must've_ had too good of a time on your honeymoon, Ron."

Across the room, Severus was already at the open bar once more. This time, a much less powerful wine was grasped in his hand. He had been given much to think about over the course of the last wedding, and for one thing he was certain was that he'd had enough of weddings already. But there was little he could do about that.

What he also knew was that as his anger abated, he realized that what she'd done was actually quite clever. Amazing, really. Well above the level she should have been performing at. Perhaps if he had suggested that in the first place, she would not have needed to lie to him about it. But he didn't think it was truly possible for her to distort others' memories so and incorporate them into one's own consciousness.

The way she had fought him, even going so far as to shove him, made Severus also hope that she was not as cowardly as she pinned herself to be. There were instances, few moments, of her old self within her, but they needed opportunities to shine through. Perhaps she was not as lost of a cause as he'd initially believed. Maybe she would agree to return to the castle if she could be convinced that he did not hate her.

He'd spoken with Minerva, who had spread the word to the Weasleys, Malfoys, and now the new Potters, of the plan to keep Rebecca Felan on British soil. All seemed aboard, and would work on her from different angles. And he wouldn't have to reveal the rest of what he'd discovered since last week.

Her proximity sent him into a near-frenzy. His dreams had been completely out of hand since he'd last seen her, more frustrating than they'd been over the year of her absence. He was nearing a breaking point, but he could not show that, especially not to her. Already, she looked more herself, not having to slip into her spy mask even with the onslaught of guests, more than last week's wedding.

He would set the plans into motion, and she would stay. His conscience would be assuaged, and these feelings he was having would go away. He would not continue to have inappropriate thoughts about her, despite how utterly stunning she looked in her Slytherin-green dress. It practically made his mouth water, and that simply would not do.

Things seemed to move much faster at this wedding. The toasts were over in a flash, Rebecca and Ronald Weasley performing some sort of dual toast for the Potters. He saw Harry Potter still held the photo album close, unable to leave it back at the table.

Soon, she was appearing on the stage as Potter and his new wife made their way to the dance floor, Potter practically dancing with his happiness.

The DJ actually helped Rebecca call the room to silence this time, and the spotlight peered down on her. The green dress hung perfectly upon her, and Severus wondered how many men eyed her throughout the room. He sneered suddenly at the thought, then pinched the bridge of his nose to try and gather some self-control.

"In keeping with the theme I set up last week, and because everyone keeps shunning the gifts I try to give them, I've got another song for my friends, the newlyweds," she said. "Harry, Ginny, congratulations, and enjoy your first dance."

More applause as Rebecca took her seat at the bench. The transition between herself facing the crowd and her taking up her position before the piano was seamless. An old tune began, and Severus knew he'd heard it before. Somewhere in his muggle past. But it didn't strike him until the lyrics floated through the air, her voice a joy again to hear.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me, never before has someone been more…"

She looked up from her fingers, more sure of herself. Her eyes lighted upon the happy couple dancing, holding one another, and generally being immersed in themselves. But then her eyes scanned the crowd. There was no way she could see him, Severus believed, not with the light upon her as it was. But her eyes found his. And he couldn't bear to look away.

"Unforgettable in every way. And forever more, that's how you'll stay."

She broke their eye contact. Severus took in a breath. A challenge, that's what that had been. He'd done the same to her when he'd greeted her at the table. She had picked the game back up where they'd left off. His heart began pounding.

"That's why, darling, it's incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable, too."

Even though she was no longer looking at him, the words struck him still. His mind raced to figure out what she was trying to do. Was she testing him, to see how he would react? Did she know of the plan to attempt to get her to stay, and that all of her friends were in on it? Would she seek him out instead of others? So many questions, and he couldn't answer any of them. So very frustrating.

But her voice calmed him once more as she completed the song. His drink went untouched during its entirety.

"Unforgettable in every way. And forever more, that's how you'll stay. That's why, darling, it's incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable, too."

The tent was in an uproar by the end of the song, as the newlyweds were kissing once more. _How dull_, Severus thought with a roll of his eyes. He downed about half of his drink while he waited for the crowd to calm down.

But it was not to be. The Matron of Honor took center stage now, Ginny clasping a suddenly tense-looking Rebecca by her hand, not allowing her to escape.

"Instead of a Dark Dance for this wedding, the ladies of the wedding party have a much more interesting surprise for everyone," Mrs. Weasley said, her voice amplified magically. "All ladies wishing to participate should come forward and stand behind us and follow our lead."

The females of the wedding party got off the stage. There was a great shuffling forward as countless women began to come forward, even Narcissa, leading an embarrassed-looking Astoria Greengrass forward. Severus looked on curiously.

Rebecca didn't like this routine they'd thought up anymore. It had been Ginny's idea, and as the bride, her word was essentially law. She'd been obliging when it had just been them practicing for the last three days, but now, in front of everyone, Rebecca wasn't so sure of herself.

"You can do it, Becca," Hermione said. "Just like we practiced."

"Come on, we'll help," Ginny said, still holding onto Rebecca's hand.

"I'm not really sure how anything is going to help right now," Rebecca said, jaw clenched tightly.

Ginny sighed. "I want you to have fun with this," she said. "Focus on me and Hermione, and it'll be all right."

Rebecca gave a curt nod, not sure if she believed that entirely. When it seemed as many women as could fit on the dance floor were behind them, Hermione motioned to the DJ to begin. The muggle song from the 1980s called "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" began blasting through the air, the intense beat forcing Hermione and Ginny into action immediately. Ginny suddenly turned Rebecca to face her, dancing with a huge grin on her face.

Rebecca performed the rehearsed moves, but they were stiff. She was exposed, doing something she'd rather not, in front of lots of staring eyes and the two snapping cameras of the press. But she felt Hermione behind her, and looked over her shoulder to see the other girl laughing, holding onto one of her shoulders even as Ginny continued to swing Rebecca's arms in sync with her own.

A slow smile crept onto her face at seeing her friends so pleased. Even the women following them, only a few moments into the song at this point, were clearly enjoying themselves.

Finally, her resolve broke. The gracefulness she'd had to train for kicked into high gear. She moved with her friends, arms over her head at the appropriate points, feet making the precise movements they'd practiced, even in these silly heels. She and Hermione danced around Ginny, some part of each of them touching the other at all points. In response to this song, they'd wanted to give off a resounding "yes!" She could only assume from the appreciative sounds from the mostly male crowd that they were succeeding.

At some point towards the ending of the song, Rebecca cast her gaze about the crowd. The dark man in the corner caught her eye, and she couldn't help but spare him a glance. His eyes were wide, the drink in his hand held aloft, as if it had been headed for his mouth. He stared at her openly. Suddenly, she was self-conscious, and nearly faltered. But he saw her watching him, and he looked to the floor, taking a sip from his wine glass. Now that was interesting.

Rebecca danced with her friends and the majority of the female wedding attendants for another thirty seconds before the song ended. Deafening applause, whistles, and hungry looks for Hermione and Ginny from their husbands.

"I'd call that a success!" Rebecca called to her friends over the tumult. Emphatic nods in return.

Rebecca removed herself from the crowd, taking solace in the cooler parts of the vacant parts of the tent. She headed to the nearest bartender and grabbed a bottle of water, chugged it, and then ordered a glass of wine once more.

She sipped upon the wine, glad for the moment of rest at an abandoned table in the background. Once she'd finished her glass, she looked for him out in the crowd. But she could not see him. Rebecca wondered if she would gain the courage to speak with him. Mentally, she felt in a much better place to begin attempting these sort of conversations. Her mind felt much calmer, even though she still constantly felt just on-edge with her anxiety out in the open or when others were too close. But she'd had more time to settle down, and more time hanging around Draco once more to remember how Slytherins behaved around one another. And that helped a lot.

Severus Snape knew she would be watching for him in the crowd, so he chose to stay as hidden as possible. He made his way toward her, unable to stay away any longer. It was time to begin implementing the plan, and he had to hope that the others had been doing their individual parts.

"You owe me a dance."

She turned upon him addressing her. His features were perfectly schooled, not even his eyes giving anything away, not as they had before, while she was dancing with Hermione and Ginny. Only when he thought no one was watching.

"I see you're not as mad at me as when we last parted," she said.

"Time to think does wonders for one's point of view."

"You never struck me as the dancing type."

Severus took a step closer to her, blocking her view of the rest of the room. While it wasn't meant as a threatening move, Rebecca felt her shoulders tense. He noticed, stepping off to the side minutely.

"We have matters to discuss," he said, suddenly holding out his hand. "And I wished to ask you one more time whether you believe yourself to truly be a coward."

Rebecca's brows furrowed at him. He had been so angry last week, but here he stood before her, the image of perfect neutrality once more. Quickly, her mind rushed in the possible games he could be playing with her. She had, after all, put the proverbial ball in his court by meeting his gaze during the song. She knew he'd seen her. There was no way he couldn't have.

Finally, she reached out, allowing her hand to rest against his softly.

"Not so much as I believed," she replied, standing.

She saw his lip quirk ever so slightly, but it remained turned down. He turned to lead her to the dance floor.

Rebecca felt a thrill run through her upon his touching her. He could probably feel the beating of her heart, but at this point she didn't care. She could strike it up to nerves because of the crowd, because she was still energized from her dance.

"I didn't think you would seek me out," she said, as he moved her into the proper stance as the music slowed a few paces. Not quite a slow dance, but also not too quick.

"I've had time to think on your perspective, Miss Felan," he said. "Your actions are not so difficult for me to discern."

Her head titled slightly to the side as her gaze upon him intensified. A tiny hint of anger. She could use it to her advantage brilliantly still, he hoped.

An undetectable shiver went up his spine because of how close their bodies were. He could see the new scars here and there, but they didn't detract from her appearance at all. Taunt muscles in places he didn't recall having been there before. The swell of her breasts in the halter top of the dress… The combination made him weak in the knees, but he kept moving out of sheer spite.

"I would say, then, you've come to apologize," she said evenly, "but I know I'll never receive one."

Absolutely scathing, though her features gave nothing away. All with simple intonation. Perfect. Deadly.

"I've come to speak to you again about staying on as Potions Mistress," he said as they took yet another turn. "Minerva insists that you stay."

"As her two letters a day have similarly said. And, suddenly, all of my friends are making plans for me well past my allotted time here." She narrowed her gaze, brows furrowing. "You've lost your touch, professor. Not nearly as subtle now."

"As you so delicately put it last week, we are no longer in a war," Severus said, his grip upon her waist tightening somewhat.

Rebecca's jaw clenched at that move. Though her heart raced as he brought her closer to him once more, just as he had during the Dark Dance at Ron and Hermione's wedding, she was irritated. He had confirmed her suspicions. Her friends already wished for her to stay and would be jumping on any bandwagon that would allow her to do so. She was being manipulated by all sides. And she hated it.

Her initial reaction was to pull away. But this was a game. All a game. It would always be, and perhaps might be never-ending. But she wasn't weak, not by a long shot. And here, among all of these people, he would not harm her, just as he'd been unable to harm her last week. Rebecca wasn't stupid enough to believe herself invincible, but she felt pretty close to it at that moment.

She stepped closer to him, the hand upon his shoulder moving toward his neck at the same time, the side where the snake bites were hidden from view. And there she could feel his heart racing even under his perfect mask.

"You never answered me about your wound, professor," she said, keeping her voice light. "I do hope they managed to heal quite well."

Her eyes flicked from the spot where her fingers trailed lightly over his tall collar to his own eyes. Barely a flicker of some deep emotion she couldn't get a sense of. It was gone in a flash. It wasn't anger, but perhaps something close to it.

"It is as fine as any puncture marks could be." His words were somewhat clipped. "But that is not what we're here to discuss. Your parting words to me last week, on the other hand, I would more than like to object to."

She glanced away from him for a moment, as if his line of talk was boring her. Really, she wanted to gauge the number of people watching. Off the dance floor, the Albright reporter was snapping photographs quickly of them. The others on the dance floor were wrapped up with themselves. But certain others took notice of them, Molly Weasley not looking particularly happy.

"I would appreciate a bit of your attention while I'm speaking with you, Miss Felan."

The edge to his voice made Rebecca's head snap back to face him out of reflex. Damn that professorial tone.

"My affinity for crowds hasn't changed, Professor Snape," Rebecca said quickly. "My apologies."

"I do not hate you."

That almost made Rebecca stop in her tracks in the middle of the dance floor. Sheer force of will and the fact that he held her so tightly propelled her forward.

"I find you irritating, a near know-it-all, too trusting, arrogant beyond extreme, and someone with a far bigger heart than most might give her credit for and who should learn when it is best to use her powers of empathy," Severus said, his eyes never leaving hers. "But I do not, in fact, hate you. None of your potential colleagues will hold any sort of malice toward you."

She blinked, combing her mind for some sort of answer. Any answer would do at this point.

"I don't understand why it _must_ be me," she said. "Certainly there are other masters in Britain, ones who are not suffering as I am. Ones, even, who would be able to step foot into Hogwarts without having a panic attack."

"Minerva has informed me that there are a few," he replied. "Three others. They are being considered. But she is insistent upon you."

"But you would not have to train them," Rebecca said. "You would not have to subject yourself to those memories should you choose them. They would come prepared."

"In my entire career, I have truly only enjoyed teaching four students." A pause as his face came closer to hers. "Four students, Miss Felan. As obnoxious as your constant line of questioning was, you happen to be one of them."

"That's a compliment I was never expecting from you."

"Don't think me quite so callous."

"Very difficult not to, actually," Rebecca said, the hand upon his shoulder gripping tighter as they swung slightly more harshly into their next spin.

Severus looked down at the girl he held so tightly. Her grip was becoming uncomfortable, though barely, and he didn't recall her ever being so physically strong. There were issues here, deep-seated issues. But those could be worked through over time. He remembered his own first year after the initial war. It had been difficult. He hadn't fared any better than she mentally.

"Should you choose to stay and work with me over the summer, I have hope that your current thoughts in regard to me will not be the same."

"None of you are doing a very good job of convincing me to stay."

"So you would abandon those you call friends once more?" he asked. "Perhaps when they all wish you to remain the most. Perhaps when they need you the most. Cowardly, indeed, Miss Felan. Allowing your emotions toward me—"

She closed the gap between them, something he wasn't expecting her to do. Their chests pressed together, her breasts feeling more than pleasant against him. But he kept his features set even as hers opened up. Their noses nearly touched, but she stopped just an inch from his face, no longer going along with the dance.

"Look at me," she said, her voice a harsh whisper, just as his had been the night he'd almost died.

Her eyes were wide, pupils shaking even as they were dilated. Her body was tense, and through his connection with her hand, he could feel her pulse racing, her palm sweating.

Fear. Primal, deep, and seemingly bottomless.

"Now you understand why I can't."

She let go of him, and Severus didn't realize how tight her grip upon him had become as the blood rushed back to his fingers. She took two steps away from him before turning around and disappearing into the crowd. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Rebecca spent the remainder of the celebration avoiding all Hogwarts professors. It was fairly easy hiding among her friends and those visiting, including the Lovegoods, Neville, and Mr. Ollivander. By the end of it, she had nearly forgotten about her encounter with Severus Snape. Nearly. But she could turn around at almost any given point and find him watching her, Minerva standing beside him or somewhere near him. They were scheming, wondering how they could turn this to their advantage. The last straw was when she saw them speaking with Remus, Draco, and Harry, the three of them looking somewhat uncomfortable.

So when Harry pulled her aside, it took every ounce of patience she barely held onto to let him lead her from the group she was currently visiting with.

"While Ginny and I are gone, I really want you to consider what it is you're being offered, Becca," he said, hands clasping hers gently. "I'm not going to pretend I don't know what's going on because you'll see right through it."

"Good. You're a terrible liar. Though you do play dead rather effectively."

Harry didn't say anything, but his expression let Rebecca know that she had overstepped. She frowned.

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to being the one who feels like this. So—"

"Manipulated?" Harry asked. "It's not a good feeling. It's what I'm trying to spare you, if you'll listen to what I'm saying."

Rebecca looked down and away, biting her lower lip. Harry sighed.

"It would make us all so incredibly happy if you stayed, Becca," he said. "I don't think you're really as happy as you say you are in America. I don't think it's your dream job. You always talked about how much you enjoyed teaching others. The perfect job's being dangled before you. You don't need to escape. The war's over. It's time to move on."

"I'm trying," Rebecca replied quietly. "I'm trying so hard to move on from everything. But it's much more difficult than I could've ever imagined."

Harry squeezed her hand tightly. "I know. I still have nightmares of him. Even when I wake up, it all still feels so real. But think about it, please. Staying here may be more therapeutic than you thought."

Rebecca met Harry's eyes, the same color as her own. She closed the distance between them, pulling Harry into a tight hug.

"I'm not making any promises," she said evenly. "But I'll think about it."

"That's all I want." He patted her back, smiling faintly.

She released him from her crushing grip, still looking somewhat stern, but she attempted a smile. "Come on, it's nearly time for you two to be off on your honeymoon. Don't wanna be off to a late start."

Minutes later, the Weasleys, Remus, Andromeda and Teddy, and Rebecca were watching the couple leave on Hagrid's—no, Sirius'—motorbike. Ginny threw the bouquet directly at Rebecca, then waved to them all before they disappeared into a cloud.

Rebecca stared at the flowers in her hand, shaking her head. They were really too pretty to simply throw away, so she held them. The white lilies had been a nice touch to Ginny's dress in any case, and might brighten up her room.

Everyone turned to start up the trail leading to the Burrow. They would all clean up tomorrow morning, and the entire family was staying the night to help with that aspect, so it would be crowded. Rebecca hesitated, looking about. It was a nice night and she wasn't quite ready to be cooped up with more people, even if they were the closest that she had to family.

"I'm going to take a walk," she said to Hermione, the nearest person to her. "I just need some fresh air. I'll be up in about an hour."

Hermione smiled, nodding. "Not a problem. I'll alert the search party if you haven't returned." She smirked.

Rebecca rolled her eyes, turning to face the tent once more to decide where she wanted to walk. At the far end of the tent, she saw a shadow. She took a few steps forward, already fairly certain that she knew who it was. But she wouldn't approach him until she was certain the others were out of earshot. And she wasn't going to acknowledge him. Rebecca wanted to see what he would do.

She reached down to take off her heels, finding it difficult to walk in the grass with them on any longer. Both the flowers and her heels dangling from one hand, she set off at a comfortable, if brisk, pace, setting her feet toward the creek that ran through the Weasleys' property nearby. There where she, Ron, Hermione, and Harry would sometimes go during their summers at the Burrow, when they were tired of being inside.

If he followed her, Rebecca couldn't hear him. But she knew he was there. Her wand was securely tucked into her dress, though there had been little room for it. She insisted upon it, however, and was rewarded with a more secure feeling because of its placement against her skin.

She was about half-way to the creek when he finally decided to speak up.

"Have you not learned from your adventures alone?"

Rebecca stopped, but didn't turn around. He must have stopped upon the path as well since she didn't hear any footsteps.

"I have. That's why I already knew you were following me."

"Yet you led me away from the Burrow."

A step. Two, three. Soon, he was standing beside her. Rebecca turned her head and smirked.

"I figured you wished to talk further," she said. "It's difficult to do with Molly Weasley meddling."

"I see you're aware of her intentions."

"She is very transparent."

"And I see you're not pleased with her wishes for you."

"Not as pleased as you seem to be about discovering I'm not pleased about her plans."

"Simply content with the fact that you're not rushing to give your affections away once more."

A soft smile graced her features, but it didn't reach her eyes. "No. I had a wonderful teacher for that particular life lesson."

She continued walking, her pace the same as it was before. Severus was tempted to put a hand to his heart because of the scorn her felt. Perhaps this hadn't been the best idea, but he couldn't simply let things lie as they had been after their dance. He was trying to help her, to get over his guilty conscience of what he'd done to her last year so his mind would stop plaguing him. And then all of this would stop. Whatever he felt would go away, and they could be colleagues, nothing more.

But even this close to her, he wished to touch her hair, to feel how soft it might be. To take in her scent once more, to feel her touching him, even in a simple manner… Dear Merlin, these were awful thoughts, and not even the worst he'd had concerning her. They had to be stopped. They were completely inappropriate, and it was more than clear his advances wouldn't be welcome.

He followed her, keeping the pace as well as he could while giving her enough room not to feel crowded. By the time he reached the clearing where the creek cut through, she already sat upon a flat rock, watching the water.

"I've already told Harry that I would think about staying," she said. "I'm not certain if I said it for his benefit or if I truly meant what I said." She shifted slightly, her body turning so she could peer at him over her shoulder. "So whatever talk you wished to give me better be good, Professor Snape. Because I don't appreciate the extra attention."

The flowers and her shoes sat beside her on the grass, which she kneaded between her toes. The action was simply comforting and served no other purpose. Rebecca watched him as he found a rock about three feet from her own and began to sit down. His descent was slow, and he favored his left side a bit. A swell of empathy rose up within her, and she nearly reached to help him. But she set her features and waited for him to get comfortable.

"The muggles," he said as he looked to her, "have a saying I'm quite fond of. For this situation, it's also apropos. Let us speak of the elephant in the room."

Rebecca turned her head to look at him. He had clearly been waiting for her to look at him, as his eyes pierced through the night.

"You are angry because I rebuked you," he said. "You claimed to love me, and I did not return the sympathies. Considering everything that had just occurred in my life, I cannot say that I would have reacted any other way, nor will I apologize for my actions."

Those green eyes stared right through him, as if they could see into his mind. Perhaps she could read his thoughts more clearly than even he could. That would be disastrous.

"However, I will say that I should have considered that you were in no better state than I was," he said, continuing in his even tone. "It was not my intention to cause you the harm that I did."

Still she didn't speak. What could she possibly be thinking?

"What do you want me to say, Professor Snape?" she asked, her shoulders rising and falling quickly. "Do you want me to tell you that all is forgiven and forgotten? Because I can't do that. I understand why you said the things you did. I was stupid to come to you when I did, especially not being certain of your reaction."

She turned from him, choosing to watch the stream. The constant movement of the water, the sound of it, comforted her. And it allowed her to maintain her calmness, even when all she wished to do was continue being angry.

Severus let the silence fall between them, trying to think of what to say. He had to know, had to understand what she'd been thinking when she'd come to him with her confession after the trial.

"Certainly you could not have felt all that you claimed to have—"

"I did love you," she said, facing him once more. "_Did_. Whatever you wish to tell yourself otherwise is a lie and you know it."

"Very well," Severus said. "But knowing what I do of you, you won't let your own anger and pain get in the way of your friendships."

"You think you can be the one to convince me to stay?" she asked, shaking her head. "Especially since if I do decide to stay, I'll be subjected to you nearly every waking moment, be forced to recall all of those feelings. Moreover, I'll have to step back into that castle, onto those grounds, where all of those things happened. Where all of those people died. I don't have the strength. Not anymore. I used it all up for the war."

"Clearly you're delusional, Miss Felan, if you expect me to believe that sob story," Severus said with a roll of his eyes. "Those are things you must overcome. It is part of the human condition. You overcame much more cumbersome and dangerous obstacles when facing the Dark Lord. The testament can still be seen upon your forearm."

Rebecca grasped the Dark Mark, looking resolutely at the stream.

"You cannot hide in America forever."

Rebecca let her hands go up to her forehead and pushed her hair back, letting her fingers become entrapped in her own locks.

"I'm just so tired," she said quietly. "Tired of trying to please everyone else, trying to be what they all want me to be. I left for so many reasons, but the biggest one was to prove to myself that I could do it. I was independent. And it all makes me feel like such a big failure. Returning, seeking safety back in familiar territory, it would feel like I was crawling back."

Severus watched as her fingers disentangled from her tendrils. At that moment, he knew it would be appropriate to comfort her. But that was not in his nature, and she would not want it. But he felt the desire to touch her become almost bearable.

"I suspect you've learned quite a bit about yourself this past year," he said.

She nodded. "Very much."

"Do you feel that you know yourself better than you did at the end of the war?"

"I think I'm learning more things about myself even now," she said, slowly turning to face him. "Now that I've actually begun the healing process, I think I'll find I'm much more like that person last year than I originally wanted to be. But it may take a while."

He nodded. "Yes. I had similar difficulties after the first war."

She held her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking. But it was Severus that spoke first.

"Allow me to oversee your training," he said. "You will certainly have no difficulty obtaining your mastery. While you train, I will convince Minerva to more carefully consider the other potential candidates. It will be as low-pressure as I can make it, and then we will give you the choice once you obtain your mastery."

"Do you have a timeline for the events?"

Severus pondered that for a moment. "When are you scheduled to leave?"

"August twenty-eighth," she said.

"Then the twenty-first will be our deadline. That will mean you will have approximately a month and a half, if we were to begin tomorrow."

"That isn't a lot of time. But I suppose it would be stupid of me to decline."

"Stupid and cowardly."

A gap of silence filled only by the running water of the stream could be heard in the little clearing.

"Fine. We'll do things your way once more, professor."

"Then we'll need to discuss your arrangements while you're in training," he said. "Between the wars, I attempted to train a few apprentices, and all failed miserably. You should know what you're getting into."

"I smell a lecture."

"Of a sort," he said, nodding. He couldn't look at her any longer. Even in the dim lighting of the moon, she was exquisite. "We will be with one another, as you have correctly asserted, for a majority of the day. Your weekends you normally could do what you wished, but they will be needed for studying because of our short time period. The weekdays will be spent in the lab, in the gardens, and in the greenhouses. You will also be learning the proper techniques for everything, including bathing, that a master of potions should know."

Rebecca's brows furrowed as she listened. Her legs came up against her chest, her arms wrapping around them as she rested her chin upon her knees to listen. She wouldn't interrupt him, not yet, wishing to hear everything at once before passing judgment.

More of the soft skin of her legs appeared in her simple movement, the skirt of her dress falling farther down her thighs. Severus closed his mouth for a moment. His eyes moved to gaze upon her face, but she was all attention. This wasn't part of the game. He continued, trying not to look at her.

"You will have quarters beside my own in the dungeons during your training. We will share a lavatory. These will probably be the most uncomfortable few weeks of your life, but you must be prepared to pass all aspects of this test and know what will be expected of you as a Potions Mistress."

"I understand that part of the practical portion of the test is that the Ministry officials must say you pass a cleanliness test," she said. "But the details upon it were a bit sketchy. I didn't want to ask Mr. Brauer about it."

"But you'll ask me?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"We've had many more awkward moments than Mr. Brauer and I have," Rebecca said simply. "After all, we've discussed my sex life."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "And how I do regret having to have those conversations." He sighed. "Potions Masters and Mistresses must go through a complete and thorough washing, which has its own protocol. You'll need to learn that in order to be deemed perfectly clean."

"Lovely."

"Sarcasm is not your most endearing feature, Miss Felan."

"Perhaps not, but I'll continue to use it whether you like it or not, professor."

He rolled his eyes. "The rest of this we can discuss tomorrow when you return to the castle. If that is amiable to you."

She nodded, slowly unfolding herself and standing in one graceful movement. Momentarily, Severus was entranced. Then he looked down so that he could stand, though his was perhaps not as graceful as her movements had been.

"You limp much more profoundly than I would've thought," she said. "Did you suffer some other sort of injury?"

"Nagini's venom coupled with her landing upon my knee," he said. "For the most part, it does not bother me overly so. But standing all day does tend to take its toll."

He gave her a sideways glance. Rebecca nodded, then stepped forward, making to move down the path that would take her back to the Burrow. Her shoes and the flowers were in her left hand. He saw her falling before he knew what he was doing.

Arms reached out to grab her and pull her back onto her feet, steadying her as she caught her balance once more. She looked up, her right hand in his once more with his other hand upon her bare shoulder. Her whole body seemed to flush as red as her hair.

"It appears you have similar difficulties, Miss Felan," he said.

"More physical therapy and I should be fine."

He wasn't letting go of her, but she wasn't necessarily moving to break the contact. His gaze was intense and unyielding. Finally, Rebecca broke their eye contact and stepped away.

"Thank you for catching me," she said. "Hopefully it won't happen in the lab. I can't imagine the disaster I'd make there."

She began the small walk back up to the Burrow, Severus waiting a moment before following her. He had gotten himself in deep this summer. But close contact with her on a daily basis was what his conscience needed in order to assuage itself of guilt. Moreover, her constant rebuking of him would force his subconscious to come to the realization that she didn't desire him any longer. The flush upon her skin was her own embarrassment at being unable to control her own knee. She broke contact with him, did not wait for him to follow her. And she had loved him—past tense.

He caught up with her fairly easily. Her pace was not as quick as it had been on the way here.

"I'll expect you at the castle at eleven a.m. sharp," he said. "That will give me time to explain the conditions to Minerva and have her get the castle to make the appropriate changes."

Rebecca nodded. "That will give me time to explain to the Weasleys," she said. "And time to help clean up at least a bit. Guests do make quite the mess."

She didn't look at him, afraid that if she did, she would do something stupid. Still her body wished to react to him, even though she could still feel the anger toward him, still could feel all of the pain he'd caused. Perhaps she truly was stupid, or maybe just a masochist of some sort. And he was being far too nice, far too understanding. It was different than she was used to him acting. But the war changed many people. He still had his own cruel streaks, but maybe he'd grown a bit more understanding over their year apart.

As it was, he seemed content to walk in silence. She appreciated this about him, at least. He didn't feel the need to clutter up the air with needless conversation. She'd had about enough of that recently.

They had reached the tent and were in sight of the Burrow when he paused, nodding his head at her.

"Until tomorrow, Miss Felan. Good night."

"Good night, Professor Snape."

She watched him turn and leave, reaching the boundaries of the Weasleys' wards and Apparating. Rebecca turned back to the Burrow, intent upon packing up all of her things, including the pictures upon the wall. Even the one of the most recent Order.

* * *

"Savior" Rise Against

_Training Begins, July 8, 1999_

The cleanup was complete by ten the next morning. But the time spent putting things away had allowed Rebecca to explain the circumstances behind her returning to the castle to receive training. Everyone seemed behind the idea, and even Molly knew that keeping Rebecca here was better than having her leave once more.

"I just hope Severus doesn't try to keep you up every day for the next month and a half," she said, wand flicking side to side. Another portion of the tent came down and folded itself. "We've only just had you for the last two weeks."

Rebecca smiled lightly. "I'm sure I can weasel my way out a few days."

She had all of her things packed and was bidding everyone goodbye once more, but this occasion found everyone much happier than the last time she'd said goodbye. Soon, she was walking up to the castle, the anxiety resting like a stone in the pit of her stomach. A stone that felt as though it were growing in size with every step she took toward the gate.

She was parallel with Hagrid's hut. The large man sat upon his stoop, Fang lying beside him. The boarhound gave a great "woof!" before standing and racing to Rebecca, who couldn't help but smile and receive the huge dog, barely able to keep him from licking her face completely.

"Becca!" Hagrid's voice boomed across the way. He came loping toward her. "Fang, ge' back, ge' back!"

The boarhound backed off slightly, still standing next to Rebecca as his whole back half shook with the force of his wagging tail.

"What're yeh doin' 'ere?" Hagrid asked.

"I'm training with Professor Snape," she replied, shrugging. "I might take over as Potions Mistress this term."

"Migh'?" Hagrid asked. "Ya know, Becca, we'd all love it if yeh stayed."

The half-giant kept his distance from her. For how large and imposing he was, he was also one of the most empathetic souls Rebecca had ever met. And if ever a large man tried to make himself appear smaller, it was Hagrid. She smiled.

"I know."

"'ere, lemme walk up with yeh."

He turned, taking a giant step for every two of Rebecca's.

"So yeh're trainin' with Snape?"

She nodded. "I don't suspect it will be too difficult."

Hagrid gave her an odd look. "Lemme know if I can 'elp yeh any. I'm pretty knowledgeable about when certain plants are bloomin' and such in the Forest."

"I appreciate that, Hagrid, thank you." She looked up and smiled genuinely at him. "If you take meals up at the castle during the summer, I'd also like the extra company."

"Sure!" he said. "I'd like ta 'ear about yer time in America. I'm always 'ere ta talk to, just like I was when you lot were in school."

The memories of the time spent in Hagrid's hut when they were supposed to be doing so many other things returned to her, and Rebecca nearly cried at the naivety, at the sincere trust and friendship between them all during those times. This trip was already proving to be an emotional roller coaster of sorts, but she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I know. Thank you for that."

"Yer more than welcome, Becca."

They reached the castle entrance, Fang still walking beside her. She'd stroked his coarse fur the whole walk up, feeling it calm her nerves. If she stayed, Rebecca might consider getting a cat or some sort of other companion. Animals, particularly since coming into the magical world, had always both fascinated and comforted her. Truly, they were better companions than people at times, especially when she felt in her solitary moods. But she would have to see. One step at a time.

The castle loomed before them now, the glass no longer broken, the stone all repaired, gargoyles put back into place and fixed. The doors were no longer cracked.

"Well, this is where I'll take my leave," Hagrid said. He moved slowly, gently resting his large hand on Rebecca's shoulder. "If yeh ever need me, yeh know where I am, Becca."

"Thank you, Hagrid."

He removed his hand and motioned to his dog. "C'mon, Fang. Let's go."

Rebecca gave Fang a final pat on the head before pushing him toward Hagrid. The boarhound barked once more and ran off to follow Hagrid. Rebecca then turned to face the castle doors. She put her hand against the wood and immediately could sense the magic—old magic, sentient magic. She could feel it seeking her own out, attempting to wrap around her. Recognition. The doors opened for her.

The Entrance Hall had been mended as well, she could see as the doors slowly opened. She did not yet step inside, choosing to take in her surroundings as the pit in her stomach moved itself to her throat. She couldn't speak or utter any sort of noise. The stairs were no longer covered with debris. No more bodies, screaming, or flashes of different spells and curses. It rang in her ears still.

Finally, she took one step onto the perfected tile. She paused, her breathing attempting to match the pace of her heartbeat. This was such a stupid reaction. There was clearly no more war and had not been for a year. There was no fighting at Hogwarts— no longer. It was pristine, back to its original condition, perhaps even better than it had looked in a thousand years. She steadied her breathing, hoping her heart rate would soon follow.

"Good morning, Rebecca."

"Minerva," Rebecca said, turning toward the stairs to see the Headmistress coming down the steps.

"You're early. Severus said not to expect you until eleven. My apologies for not being here to greet you."

"It's fine. We got done cleaning up early."

Minerva noted that the young woman looked tense, but tried to play it off. She understood the reaction to the place. Though Rebecca had lived here for nearly a month after getting out of Azkaban the year before, she had been more afraid than Minerva ever remembered seeing her. And it hadn't just been because of the remaining Slytherins, those who'd lost everything after the war. Clearly, the memories of the battle were still affecting her.

"Well," Minerva said, smiling, "your quarters have been prepared, as you and Severus discussed. But I'd like to make certain with you—"

"It's all going to be a big change from what I'm used to, but it will work out for the best," Rebecca said, staring at Minerva with an even expression. "I'll be fine."

"I've always had the utmost faith in you, Rebecca. I'm sure you'll do more than fine." Another kind smile. Then she turned to the right, gesturing at the same time. "We'll begin our descent."

Rebecca followed Minerva to the right of the grand staircase, where a corridor would begin taking them down into the dungeons.

"Your pay will not be as grand as the American Ministry's," the Headmistress continued, "but it is sufficient for someone who has newly acquired his or her mastery. Thirty-five thousand galleons a year, all meals provided, and your own quarters, which we will discuss at further length once you've passed the final test."

Rebecca nodded. "That sounds more than fine."

The stairs were well-lit here, despite how dark it became very quickly. Soon, they were passing the blank wall that marked the Slytherin Common Room.

"Should you agree to take on the position here once obtaining your mastery," Minerva said, "you'll also become the Slytherin Head of House. Severus should also be giving you advice in that regard, but I'm sure you will understand more than most how Slytherins should be handled."

"They'll need extra help," Rebecca said quietly. "Something I'm not sure Slughorn could effectively give to them."

"Astute as always, Rebecca."

Finally, after a number of twists and turns that also had them walking past the Potions classroom and office, Minerva paused before an ornate tapestry.

"I've left it without a password for now," the Headmistress explained as she pushed the tapestry aside, revealing a door. She turned the knob and opened it. "You and Severus will need to work out your own passwords, but you won't be bothered. It's only myself, the two of you, Hagrid, Sybill, and Poppy who are here this early in the summer. The others will begin filing in around mid-August."

Minerva gestured Rebecca in before her, and she obliged, though nervously. There were only two rooms as far as she could tell. The sitting room, which she currently stood in, only held a couch and two chairs, a coffee table before them. There was a door which she presumed hid the bedroom. A large desk made of dark wood was shoved against the wall, the chair pushed under it. A candle sat upon the desk, but nothing else. There was also a large, empty bookshelf against another wall. The rest of the room was bare of any decoration, though there was a second door opposite the first, which Rebecca assumed led to the shared lavatory.

That thought made her heart beat faster once more, and just when she'd finally begun to calm down. Things would be fine. She could do this.

"It isn't much," Minerva said from behind her, "but they are merely training quarters."

"It's cozy," Rebecca said, turning to face her.

Minerva nodded. "I'll bring you around to Severus' quarters, then. The entrance is just around the bend in the corridor."

Rebecca followed Minerva out once more, soon coming to another door. At this one, she knocked loudly before pushing open the door.

"Severus!" she called as she entered. "Rebecca has arrived a bit early."

"I'm left unsurprised," his voice said just before he entered the room. "Some things about you haven't changed then, Miss Felan," he added, looking her over.

Today she wore plain clothing, as he would expect she normally would. A pair of dark brown trousers, brown dress shoes, and a lightweight, long-sleeved green shirt. Her hair hung neatly about her face. But still she brought a certain new light to the room. He looked away from her, eyeing Minerva.

"Thank you for bringing Miss Felan to me, Minerva," he said. "We'll begin immediately."

"I should expect you for dinner in the Great Hall," Minerva said as she turned to leave. "We'll discuss what your timeline expectations are so I know how deeply I'll need to look into the other candidates."

Severus gave a curt nod.

Minerva left them, shutting the door behind them. Suddenly, Rebecca's mind raced, wondering why she'd agreed to this arrangement. Already, she felt uncomfortable and disoriented. But she pushed those feelings down. She was going to be involved with a subject she truly loved. There would be no more spying, no possible harm unless she messed up a potion, which was unlikely, and she only had to deal with one other person instead of over a hundred.

"I will give you the tour, we will discuss passwords, and then I will allow you to settle your things in your quarters," he said. "This should take no more than a half-hour. Then we will begin training."

Rebecca nodded, deciding she would let him lead this discussion. He beckoned to her, and she stepped forward.

"Obviously, these are my living quarters," he said. "The attached lavatory is through that door, there." He pointed to the door he'd just come from, to their left. "My bedroom is through this door behind us." He gave her a stern look, but Rebecca's face was neutral. "And the third door leads into the library and study area I've been able to set up since last evening. I've collected relevant potions materials that would be useful for this situation. You are permitted to use it whenever you have need of any reading material, though if you choose to use it while I am sleeping, do be as quiet as possible."

She gave another nod.

"Good. Follow me."

He was sans robes today, wearing only a high-collared white frock coat and black trousers and dress shoes. Without the billowing effect of his robes, he didn't cut quite as frightening of a figure, Rebecca noted as she followed him into the lavatory.

It was about the size of both their sitting areas. The shower, she noted, had no glass or curtain about it. Beside it, there was a shelf for towels. Across from it, there was a large counter with two separate sinks and a shelf on either side. Beside that was a large tub, big enough to perhaps fit three people. A water closet was separate from the rest.

"You may put any items you wish in here," Severus said. "But no items are to be kept in the shower. Anything that goes in with you must come out in order to preserve the cleanliness of it."

He saw her eyeing the shower curiously.

"There are specific charms of my own creation to keep water within a certain perimeter," he said. "And more charms that make shelves appear when you wish to place your washing items upon them. Now, onto the rules."

She watched him carefully, but her face gave away nothing. It was just as though he was training her again, the summer before her fourth year. She was attentive, but at the same time reserved. But he knew she would forget nothing.

"Rule number one," he said, "is that the water pressure is not to be adjusted. However, you can adjust the temperature of the water simply by speaking the temperature you desire. The laboratory is connected to the lavatory." He gestured to the door immediately beside the shower. "In the event of an emergency, you will simply need to get yourself into the shower. The water starts as soon as you cross the threshold of the charms.

"Rule number two is as I stated. Nothing remains in the shower. Rule number three concerns the sinks. The right is mine and the left is yours. These will be kept immaculate, just as the rest of these facilities will be."

He looked to the shower once more. "Rule four. Should you find yourself in the shower because of an accident, you are not permitted to leave the shower until I have determined you are safe to exit. I will check to make certain you have nothing toxic or dangerous upon your person. Once you have completed the part of your training that deals with severe injuries, I expect that you will do me the same service should it ever come to it. You will need to know how to handle these situations should they ever occur in your classroom with students present."

"Of course."

They were the first words she'd spoken since entering their shared area, and already he could sense her nervous tension and reservations. But she was holding up remarkably well. He would have to see how well that calm exterior lasted.

"And rule five," he said. "You may make use of the lavatory whenever you like, but should you find me making use of the bathtub, as infrequent as that may be, do so quietly, as I don't enjoy being disturbed."

She gave a final nod.

"Before I show you to the lab, let us discuss passwords," he said. "The password to the lab will be Polyjuice Potion." He paused, watching her reaction. She looked down, though he could see her attempting to hide a smirk. "I will not ward my own quarters against you since you will need to make use of the study at some point. Whether or not you feel comfortable enough to do the same to yours will not bother me. However, the password leading into the corridor I should know in case of emergencies."

"Mischief managed," she said.

His lips thinned. "Very well. The password for the door leading into the corridor on my side will be Half-Blood Prince."

"Easy enough to remember."

Severus nodded. "Put your things away and report back in my sitting room when you're finished. We'll go into the lab and discuss proceedings before starting your training."

He turned and exited the lavatory. Rebecca retreated back to her own quarters, wondering why the Marauders' signature phrase had been the first thing to pop into her mind for a password. Perhaps she was enjoying the act of annoying him too much.

She sat her magical bag upon the coffee table and began pulling out her belongings. The photographs were on the top, in a separate bag, so she set those on the sofa beside her. She arranged her own books on the lone shelf on the other wall. Her piano barely fit in the sitting room. She'd had to move the chairs about to make a pathway from her sitting room to the lavatory. But she'd found comfort in re-learning to play and practicing. If she had time, she'd like to continue doing so. The rest of her clothing went into the wardrobe in the bedroom. The photographs she spread about the walls of the quarters, trying to give the two rooms more character.

Rebecca looked about when she was done, feeling satisfied by her decorations. She scooted by her piano and crossed the lavatory and entered his sitting room, where he sat reading the _Prophet_. He folded it in half to peer over the paper upon her entrance. Then he folded it over once more and placed it on the table beside his chair before standing.

Without a word, he went back the way she'd come. Rebecca followed, wondering if their situation could get much more awkward. Upon looking at the shower as she passed it on their way to the laboratory, she clenched her jaw, realizing that it most definitely _was_ going to get extremely uncomfortable very quickly. But she could do this. It was all a challenge, a challenge he'd set before her once more. Perhaps he wished to prove her wrong. After all, he'd divulged that every apprentice under him had failed. How many had cracked under the constant pressure? How many had fled after the first couple of days? He certainly wouldn't treat her any differently.

The short staircase took them farther down into the castle. Another door at the end of the stairs opened to reveal the laboratory, simple in its setup. There were two large work tables and two stools, one at each table. A door that appeared to go underneath his quarters had to be his stores. There were shelves lining every wall, holding cauldrons and different supplies— cutting utensils and cleaning tools.

"The storerooms are arranged so the most volatile are in the back. Do not move anything. The classroom stores should be set up as these are. It is standard. Memorize it and all will be well."

He moved farther into the room, and she followed, noting everything he said and what he pointed to. Her memory had only improved over the years, but still she hoped she'd forget nothing.

"If any stores begin to run low, alert me and we will go to Diagon Alley or the greenhouses to obtain more," he said. "You will need to know how to use the school's account and become familiar with when the apothecary receives its best deliveries of which items. This you'll learn slowly, but I want you to be prepared once the term begins."

He leaned against the table slightly, taking some weight from his left leg, she noticed.

"I do not need a tally of every potion you intend to prepare here. However, if there is something that is unapproved by the Ministry in any way—meaning anything experimental or of your own devising—you must alert me and I must be present throughout its brewing. No exceptions."

She nodded once more. Severus reached over and touched the shelf containing the equipment.

"If there is anything you find you need that I do not supply, though I'm certain that you will be hard-pressed to find such a thing, inform me and I shall tell you how to find it and have it supplied for you."

He touched the first table, the one he wasn't leaning against. "This is the workspace I prefer to use for active potions that need to remain in stasis. No active brewing should occur upon this table. The one I am leaning against should only be used for active brewing."

"I understand."

"Good."

He stood once more and stepped in front of her. Severus reached forward, taking up her hair on both sides of her face. He longed to smell it, as he had the night of the Dark Dance, but resisted.

"We must discuss your hair," he said. "Most apprentices are required to keep their hair cut above the ears so that it does not interfere with brewing." He let her strands fall between his fingers as he let go. He noticed the tension in her body as he touched her. "However, this is not a normal apprenticeship by any means, and it would be unfortunate to cut off all of your hair to only have you return to America. So I will allow it."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"I will show you the method to prepare your hair for brewing," he continued. "Should you skip this step even once, or if I foresee your hair should become an issue, I have no qualms about forcing you to cut it to regulation."

Truth be told, he would rather not have to force her to do such a thing. Her hair was really quite lovely. And it had been as soft as he remembered it. Her scent was all about him, something so particular to her person—so feminine and warm, inviting. Gods, this was going to be difficult.

"I hope I don't give you a reason to have to cut it off," she said. "As stupid as it sounds, I'm fond to my hair." Her fingers were combing through it now, putting it back into place after he'd touched it. That had been more than unusual, and she hadn't been expecting it. His hands in her hair had nearly sent a shiver down her spine.

"And, just to inform you, I won't be warding anything against you," she said. "I appreciate the trust you're putting in me and will reciprocate. I'll warn you that I occasionally have nightmares, and sometimes I forget to put up the soundproofing charms. If I disturb you, just wake me up, preferably from across the room. I'm… prone to violence when being woken from my nightmares."

She looked away from him at her last confession, instead letting her eyes light upon the work table. Severus considered her for a moment before responding.

"That is understood, Miss Felan."

Without thought, he reached for her again, his index finger resting upon her chin. Using just this finger, he lifted her head to look at him.

"There is no need for shame."

He could see that her usually neutral exterior had dropped for just a moment. And all he could see was her. The same, brave young woman he'd known last year. The one who stood up to him, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the Dark Lord without batting an eye.

"Are you really not mad at me for lying to you?" Her brows furrowed in disbelief.

Severus removed his finger from her chin and let his arm fall to his side. "I'm still furious about it," he said. "But I understand why you did it more than you might think. It doesn't make it any less of a terrible idea. Someone of your age and ability shouldn't have been able to do it." He paused. "But I will learn, eventually, that you shouldn't surprise me, Miss Felan."

"I'm not sorry I did what I did."

"Then perhaps you're farther along in the healing process than you originally imagined."

He turned, intent upon heading back up into the lavatory to begin her training. But her voice stopped him just before his foot hit the first step.

"Are you still angry I saved your life?"

Severus paused, thinking how to best put his answer. He turned to face her, keeping his distance.

"If I were, would I agree to train you?" he asked. "Would I permit you now to be my colleague?"

"I'm not sure I ever understand your true intentions, sir. So I can't be sure. It's why I asked."

He sighed. "There are days, Miss Felan, where I wish you hadn't saved my life. But there are more days that I find I'm content being alive. Your actions for the past year, on the other hand, are much more difficult to read. Your disregard for your own safety and for your friends' reactions to your injuries lead me to believe you're less happy with your life than you'd have many believe."

Rebecca shrugged. "I'm working on it. But I'm not suicidal, if that's what you're getting at."

"I know that you are not. You may be many things, but you are certainly not that stupid. However, I won't have any of your stunts in my lab. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Your training begins now."

He led her back up the stairs and into the lavatory. He turned to her once more.

"Considering your particular circumstances, I will allow you more time to prepare for this particular test," he said.

"This is the bathing part you were talking about."

Not a question. The fear was evident in her voice, fear and embarrassment. A subtle anger permeated the way she stood, her arms across her chest, closing herself off from him and her surroundings.

"Yes."

"You've already made an allowance for my hair. Now this. How am I supposed to learn and pass this test?"

Severus held up his hand, stopping anything else that may have come out of her mouth. "While I appreciate your seeming willingness to learn, you must understand that this is the most difficult portion of the apprenticeship for everyone. I won't have you running out just yet."

Her fingers were grasping her arm tightly. She wasn't angry at him. This was part of the test, something the Ministry had instituted to ensure each Potions Master or Mistress could brew cleanly. She understood it logically, but emotionally it was going to wreck her. Undressing in front of someone, taking them through her shower routine. Especially him. She didn't want to have to do that.

"They make every person wash in front of a Ministry official and a Potions Master in order to pass?" she asked.

"Yes. I was very uncomfortable with that portion of the test. But all mastery candidates must complete that task before brewing the potion of their creation."

"I don't know if I can do this." Her voice was very small, mimicking the way her body was attempting to shrink into itself.

"Let us simply discuss the practice first before deciding anything drastic," Severus said calmly. "That is something you _can_ do."

She nodded.

"Talk me through your process."

Her eyes were wide when she next looked at him. But she began speaking. This was all a part of the training. But already she could feel the flush of her face turning red. Rebecca wondered if he pictured her performing the acts as she spoke them, though his face was still a neutral mask as always. Merlin, if this was making her uncomfortable, how was she supposed to do this in front of anyone, let alone him?

"I rinse myself off," she said, her voice shaky. "And then I get my hair wet before shampooing it. I let the shampoo rest in my hair while I wash my body, starting from the top and working my way down. I generally use a loofah. Then I'll wash out the shampoo and the soap from my body before conditioning it. While the conditioner is sitting in my hair, I'll shave. Then I rinse once more and get out of the shower."

This was all completely absurd, this line of dialogue.

Severus listened intently, managing to keep the image from his mind. Perhaps it had to do with the look of utter terror upon her face, or perhaps he was completely in teacher mode. Either way, he assessed her process.

"You're more thorough than most, but your process is off for how clean you will need to be in order to brew," he said. "The point is to reduce as much residue as possible. So you will begin by rinsing yourself off, as you normally would. Then you will shave anything you need."

He turned from her and went to the shelf with the towels upon it, opening the cabinet above the shelves and pulling down two bottles. He returned to her and handed her both bottles.

"These are a special shampoo and conditioner that will help with the treatment you'll need to give your hair while you're training," he said. "After shaving, you will need to shampoo and condition your hair, leaving both products in for a full minute before thoroughly washing them out. Afterward, you may use the loofah to wash your body. Then you may exit the shower and towel dry—never use a drying spell before going into the lab. Understood?"

She nodded.

"I will, at some point, need to make certain you are proficient in your cleanliness," he said. "But that particular part of it can wait a while."

"Thank you."

"My job is not to frighten you, Rebecca. I am here to teach you."

She looked at him. He'd used her first name, like he used to. He must have realized his trip, as he quickly looked away.

"Now, Miss Felan, for your hair."

He turned to the sinks and leaned over, drawing out a short stool from underneath the countertop. He looked over his shoulder at her.

"Sit."

She crossed the room and obeyed, sitting so that she was facing the mirror. He grabbed a short, stout bottle and held it before her.

"This is what you will use during your training and for your final test," he said. "After that, the Ministry does not particularly care how you deal with your hair in your own lab, but I would obviously recommend keeping it from your face while brewing."

Rebecca nodded.

"I will show you once how to fix your hair correctly and then instruct you in taking it down," he continued, unscrewing the lid of the bottle. "I will then let you take a shower and remove the solution from your hair and wash yourself as I've instructed. I'll be in my sitting room, so when you are finished, simply open the door and we'll discuss the proper procedure for washing your face and hands."

"That sounds fine."

It was a lot to take in the first day, but so far Rebecca didn't feel overloaded, especially with the relief of knowing he wasn't going to make her wash in front of him.

Severus set the bottle upon the counter and took out a glob of the solution and spread it across both hands.

"For your hair, you should need just less than a handful of the solution," he said. "Rub it between your hands until it has a slightly sticky consistency to it. Then work it in from the back, like this."

His right hand went under her hair, finding her scalp. With a firm pressure, he pushed her brilliant red hair forward, flat against her head. The soft hair in his hands, her scent, and how close he had to be to her in order to perform this accurately all assaulted him at once. Severus found himself setting his jaw as his left hand came to mold the rest of her hair into a tight bun at the top of her head.

"Once the longest parts of your hair are on the top of your head, like so, you may work on your sides and front," he said, his voice possibly sounding distant. He couldn't be sure. In fact, looking up at his movements in the mirror, he wasn't sure she was hearing him either. Her eyes were half-closed, and she looked pleased with his ministrations. But she saw him looking, and her eyes immediately snapped open, though she looked a bit in a haze.

"My apologies," she said. "I've always liked having others brush or do my hair."

He nearly smirked, but stopped himself just in time. Severus looked down at his work once more and saw the Dark Mark carved into her skin upon the back of her neck, having been exposed now that her hair was no longer covering it. His thoughts floated back to that night as his hands reached forward, taking up the shorter hair in the front and pushing it into the bun atop her head.

He had been so wrong to fight with her. She was following orders, just as he had been. But his anger at Albus had been so great that he'd taken it out on her. And this had been the result. Her aversion to touch, to wanting the normal things for herself that others her age had already participated in, it was all his fault. Though even then she'd tried to put the blame somewhere else. He wondered if she still did.

"There," he said, removing his hands from her hair. He remained standing behind her, watching her reaction in the mirror.

Rebecca looked at herself in the mirror and turned her head to the left and right to examine her hair more closely. It swooped upward, sticking to her scalp as if with a Permanent Sticking Charm. The excess hair was pulled into a tight bun, knotted simply and curled in the center of her hair. Experimentally, she touched it. It was as hard as any stone.

"The water will loosen your hair, but the shampoo and conditioner will fully remove the solution from your hair," he said. "So you will, effectively, need to wash your hair before and after going into the lab. If you don't use this shampoo and conditioner and instead try to force your hair down by other means, there's the distinct possibility it will fall out."

Rebecca nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap.

Suddenly, she felt his hand on the back of her neck. Rebecca froze as his fingers touched the Dark Mark she knew was there, scarred upon her skin. She bit her lower lip as she looked at him in the mirror.

"Perhaps if I had been kinder to you that night, more understanding—"

Her lips had formed the words before she could stop them. "I don't blame you for my scars— for any of them. Or for the Dark Mark. These were all received of my own accord. You aren't to blame."

He was still looking at her scar, his fingers still pressed against her skin. He looked a man torn apart, someone who had been so for a long time. Those feelings she understood.

"I don't hate you, Severus," Rebecca said slowly.

That made him look up, meeting her gaze in the mirror. His hand rested fully against the back of her neck, a soft touch that seemed to be steadying him. Her heart hammered in her chest.

"I tried to. I wanted to. I'm still so angry about everything you said to me that day. But I don't hate you. I don't think I ever could."

His gaze intensified before she watched his hand move from her neck to her shoulder. With a soft push, he had her turned around to face him. Rebecca looked up, about to speak once more. But his neutral look was broken, turned into an expression she couldn't place. He reached down and put his hands around her waist, lifted her, then took the step forward to set her on the counter between the sinks, pushing the stool under the counter with a loud clatter. She was now eye-level with him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as he placed a hand on either side of her, effectively boxing her in. He pressed forward, forcing her legs to part around him so he could get closer to her.

"You have no idea what I would have done to you had I given in to your desires last summer," he said. His voice was even, soft, but so deep that it was frightening. A subtle growling crept into his tones, making her hold completely still at the near-threat. "I would have completely _destroyed_ you."

Rebecca wouldn't meet his eyes, but she could feel their intensity. He was only a few inches from her face. She was frightened by his words, but the way his body pushed against hers, the way he was touching her and not touching her, was affecting her own body. She swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing how badly she wanted to take him up on this challenge he was setting before her, but knowing that she wouldn't be able to go through with it, not in his current state.

"And then you dangled in front of me the reasoning behind your decision to remain virginal," he continued. "But you assured me you felt nothing for me except scorn. And your words and actions made me believe you. This is why I accepted you as an apprentice." He paused, glaring at her. But she refused to look at him, remaining completely still as he spoke. "You should hate me for everything I've done to you, for what I might have done to you had I given myself the opportunity."

Rebecca gathered herself as he spoke. She had to retaliate in some fashion, even if it was only verbal. This was not a just test, but one more challenge she had to overcome in order to get through this. This was something she needed to do in order to survive for the rest of the summer. This wasn't all her fault, as he was trying to make it seem. She couldn't let him try to push her around, like he thought he could.

"What you're saying, then, is you desire me," she said, turning her head to face him. Their noses were nearly touching. "And that you lied. And you're trying to keep lying."

His glare didn't lessen and he didn't move. Finally, his upper lip raised into a sneer. Then he pushed off the counter, turning swiftly.

"Shower," he barked.

The door to his quarters slammed behind him.

Rebecca sighed heavily. She slid off the counter and onto the tile, her body shaking from the adrenaline and the fear. She returned to her quarters to retrieve the necessary items to shower, leaving behind her own shampoo and conditioner. She re-entered the bathroom, watching the door to his quarters as she disrobed, leaving her clothes on the floor. She would change into new clothes after her shower. Her items in her hands, including the new shampoo and conditioner, she stepped into the shower.

The stream started immediately, the perfect pressure and temperature. Another sigh escaped her. Then she placed her items on the shelf that suddenly appeared on the wall of the shower. She went through the motions as he'd instructed her to do, first rinsing off and then shaving her armpits, legs, and even trimming the hair at the apex of her legs. She'd begun the habit a while ago if for no other reason than it made her feel more comfortable.

She thought of how she should react upon coming out of the shower, after she was dressed and needed to retrieve him to continue her training. Would he expect her to let this lie? If he wanted her back to her old self, she definitely wouldn't let this just go ignored. Rebecca realized that she wanted to confront him, but only after she'd gotten her bloody hair down from this ridiculous bun. She'd confront him about that, too. Why let her keep her hair, truly?

Finally, she was done with her shower. She retrieved her items and placed them on the counter on her side of the sink. Then she took a towel and began to dry herself. She wrapped the towel around her and returned her clothes on the floor to her room, picking out new clothing to change into. A simple T-shirt, short sleeves, and a clean pair of trousers would do. Barefoot. She didn't need the shoes in their quarters or the lavatory.

Then she marched over there, the resolve of her decision wrapped around her like a suit of armor. She pushed the door to his sitting room open to find him reading the _Prophet _once more, though he appeared to be on the same page as he'd been before.

"You're going to answer me," she said from the doorway.

Severus folded up the paper roughly and set it upon the table beside him once more. He looked up, intent upon yelling at her for overstepping her bounds. Her hair hung wetly to one side of her face, still looking unkempt from the towel she must have taken to it. Her body glistened from the shower. Her arms were exposed, a gesture he would normally take for trusting. But in this situation, it was showing the power she felt. Her statement upon entering the room was really a demand, something he didn't expect from her, just as he hadn't intended for her to challenge him. He should have known better, but his emotions had come over him.

"You overstep yourself, Miss Felan," he said quietly, meeting her eyes finally.

"You overstepped yourself the moment you laid a hand on me that wasn't instructive," she said, stepping into the room.

Severus closed his eyes to force himself to pause before retaliating. She was absolutely right. This. This was what he'd been concerned with. And all he'd been trying to do originally was force all of these feelings away. He didn't want them. They were inappropriate, and had wanted to believe were not reciprocated. But they clearly were. And his self-control was only so strong. He opened his eyes once more.

"You have my sincerest regret for frightening you, Miss Felan," he said carefully. "Your frankness took me off guard."

She gave a frustrated huff. "Do you know why I took this opportunity?"

He shook his head. "I cannot presume to know your mind."

"Because I wanted to try to make my friends happy," she said. "To try and make _me_ happy. And since you said you didn't hate me, I figured this would be as safe a place as any to try and be myself again. You already know me well enough, even when you pretend not to. But your actions don't make me feel safe. You _lying_ to me doesn't make me feel safe, nor does it make me trust you."

Severus didn't speak.

"Don't lie to me," Rebecca said firmly. "We'll make it through this summer as long as you decide not to threaten me again. Maybe I'll even learn something from you."

"I believe, Miss Felan, you are already much more yourself than you would like to admit," Severus said quietly. "And if my actions have had anything to do with it, then perhaps you have already learned something."

"Well… Thanks, I suppose."

He rose slowly from his chair. "Allow me to walk you through the proper treatment of your face and hands. Standing over a cauldron nearly every day will completely ruin the skin if you are not careful."

She followed him into the lavatory once more, not feeling as anxious as she had before.

* * *

_Training Continued, July 11, 1999_

The next two days had been tense. Slowly, however, they were understanding each other's personal rhythms. Sharing a space wasn't so difficult. Rebecca didn't sleep much the first few nights, not because she feared him, but because she didn't realize how much she'd missed out on by not being immersed in a Potions class for the past year. Her brewing with Brauer had helped somewhat, but it had tapered off the last four months of her stay in America.

The first night he'd had her reciting potions ingredients and steps. Many she got right, but there were a few simple potions whose ingredients or steps she'd nearly forgotten. He had her studying those before he would allow her into the lab. They would work their way up the difficulty scale excepting the Polyjuice Potion.

"Seeing as you've already mastered that particular potion," he told her. "Nor will we work on the Wolfsbane Potion. There will be no need for you to brew that particular one, I should think."

So she read, repeated, and washed herself in this new manner, all to show him that she could follow instruction. For the most part, they were quiet unless either had a direct question pertaining to the work. They didn't speak any more on the occurrence of that first afternoon. Rebecca suspected it would need to be brought up at some point.

Lunches and dinners saw her dining with him in the Great Hall and with Minerva, Hagrid, and Poppy, Sybill remaining up in her tower. He stayed quiet while she conversed with the others on many topics.

"I do wonder, dear, if you don't mind my asking, about this Jamie Turner," Minerva finally said the third dinner together. "There has been a lot of buzz."

"That's all it is," Rebecca said. "Buzz. Jamie is a good friend. He's like another brother."

"Goodness knows you have enough of those, Rebecca," Poppy said with a smile.

"She can never 'ave enough brothers!" Hagrid boomed, a protective streak coloring his tone. He looked down at Rebecca from his towering height even while sitting. "'arry told me that yeh said there were mostly men in the American Ministry. They treat you all righ'?"

Rebecca shrugged. "As well as to be expected. I was young, inexperienced, and completely new to them when I first arrived. There were problems that were easily overcome."

"I hope they weren't anything too serious," Minerva said.

"Problems I dealt with and ones that didn't occur after my first month there," Rebecca said, catching her eye and watching the Headmistress evenly. "And ones I'd prefer not to discuss."

Minerva looked back to her plate, and Rebecca couldn't remember when she'd seen the older witch looking so thoroughly cowed.

"These are still my Aurors we're discussing," Rebecca said. "And I won't speak ill of them, even if I do tear up my bloody contract." She folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate, which cleared off. "Excuse me. I need to return to studying."

She left the room, uncomfortable with the conversation and the implications that were being made, especially in front of Severus. Their relationship was already tentative at best, and they were only just re-learning how to act around one another.

Rebecca was in his study, already curled up in one of the chairs and reading from a text upon more advanced potions when he entered the room. He watched her from the doorway.

"I realize that your loyalties are very strong," he said. "But from your reaction, clearly you have difficulties coming to grips with how you were treated by _your _Aurors."

Rebecca peered over the edge of her book. "Do we really have to talk about this? I thought you wanted me to study."

"You are still highly stressed. How much information do you believe you will retain should you continue to bottle up your emotions and snap at others who merely are curious about your life while away from them?"

Rebecca let the book close and sat it on her lap. "Jamie was the only one who was remotely nice to me when I first got there. Well, he and Minister Smith. The other Aurors, especially the older veterans, weren't sure what to think of me. So I dueled them during training sessions, wore my Dark Mark and scars openly. I took risks on missions that I probably shouldn't have, spent more time with those in training to make sure they could pass their final tests to become Aurors. I didn't like most of what I had to do, but I did what was necessary to earn their respect and their trust."

He was silent. "They wanted to see your Mark. Your scars. You heeded to their desires."

"It was the only thing I could think of. I overheard one of the veterans speaking with Jamie one day, during my first week. He didn't believe I actually had a Dark Mark or any of the other scars. He said the others thought me a fraud. So I decided to show them their mistakes."

"You didn't have to prove anything to them."

"I suppose not. But it's very difficult to lead others who think you're a joke because of your age."

He hadn't taken another step toward her, but to Rebecca it felt as though he could have been standing mere inches in front of her. It was like he had her pressed up against the mirror once more, so intense was his questioning and his gaze upon her.

"In any case, it worked. My Aurors followed me and didn't question me after that." She opened the book upon her lap once more to the page she'd been on and started reading again.

Rebecca didn't hear him move after nearly a full minute. She set her book down again so she could look at him once more.

"It's not as though I haven't used my Mark or scars to manipulate people before," she said, raising her voice. "Look at Slughorn. The man practically worships me. All of them think I'm some sort of hero. All I did was help a few students, keep Harry safe when I could, watched people die, and killed someone. A professor. And that warrants all of this nonsense?"

She was babbling, but he was still staring at her. Rebecca wished he would just say something, anything.

Finally, he spoke. "You utilize your Mark and scar to your advantage because it is all you have to convince others that you were, in fact, an important asset to the war. But that does not mean you accept them as a part of who you are."

The book dropped to the floor, released by her grasp that suddenly could no longer hold it. The noise it made caused Rebecca to jump. She leaned over and picked it up, checking his text for any damage, but it appeared fine. She held it tightly in both of her hands.

"I see the way you attempt to ignore them," he said, taking a step toward her. "You are still ashamed of them when there is no reason for them to have that affect upon you. It is another facet of yourself that you must work on while you train with me."

"It sounds like you want to give my personality a damn overhaul," she muttered, standing and replacing the book on the shelf.

"I would much prefer it if the young woman I knew at the end of last year would make a constant appearance instead of teasing those around her with the mere idea of her," Severus said.

That made her turn around and face him, her eyes narrowed in consideration of his words.

"And if I must revert to my former scare tactics in order for that to happen, so be it," he added. "I cannot and will not have you so jumpy and irritable that you will attack students at any sort of provocation. I know what you nearly did to a few of your Aurors in that regard."

She glowered at him, arms crossed over her chest.

"Neither of us is in a position to lie any further, Miss Felan," Severus said. "And it is best you begin to become accustomed to that fact once more."

"So you've just admitted to spying on me while I was away."

"Albert and I were apprenticed together. Draco had some concerns over your mental health and could not get you to open up. Because of his concern, I spoke with Albert about you and learned quite a few things that I was able to relate back to Draco to assuage his fears."

"But naturally it was all for Draco."

"I was still not willing to forgive you at that point."

Rebecca took the steps forward and closed the gap between them, glaring up at him. "No, but you were so kind to inform me that you would have—what was the word—destroy me had you allowed yourself to. Care to elaborate, _sir_?"

Severus stared down his nose at her, his mask not being broken just yet. If it was a battle of wills she wanted, he would most certainly give her one. Soon, she would discover that this was not her forte.

"Despite your inexperience in that particular area, I believe you are intelligent enough to know exactly what I meant when I said that."

"I see. So you would have used me and then have been done with me."

"You are only so lucky that I spared you."

"Certainly," Rebecca said, rolling her eyes. "I think you're simply telling yourself that to make you feel better about actually wanting to sleep with me then. I don't think you would've done any of that."

"You trust me too much."

"How many times have I heard that?"

"What is it you want from me, Miss Felan?" he asked, hands behind his back because he could not trust himself to leave them at his sides with how close she was to him.

"At this moment, I just want you to tell me what it is _you_ want from me," Rebecca said, throwing her hands up into the air and letting them fall back down. "Because there are too many different emotions written on your face at any given time for me to be able to figure it out for myself. And I want your words and your actions to match up for just one moment so I can get my bearings on this situation."

He was very quiet, simply looking at her. He hadn't moved at all since she'd come close to him, his face still unreadable. But his eyes showed a certain softness, something that she'd seen in them only a few times.

"I want you to get over these notions of your infatuation," he said quietly. "I don't want to be a part of them. They were and always will be inappropriate, and I cannot give you whatever it is you seek. I want to train you to be the best Potions Mistress that I believe you can be. And I want us to be colleagues so that everyone will forget why it is that you left and will not remember all of those things that I said to you after my trial."

"I think you just lied to me again, Severus," Rebecca whispered.

"Then perhaps your trust in me will finally be broken."

Rebecca looked away from him. "Do you even know what your Patronus looks like?"

"Yes."

Her head tilted slightly up, so she could peer at him through her hair. "Cast it."

His brows furrowed. "I will not simply because you demand it."

"You demanded it of me after I received my Mark. At least I'm not forcing you."

"Those were different circumstances."

"If you are so certain that what you want from me is as you've said, then you'll have no problem casting your Patronus. If you do have a problem casting it, then I can only assume that your former statement is a lie and that you want more from me than you're admitting."

Her hands were clenched into fists. She could barely keep her voice even. Everything he was doing, everything he said, none of it added up to what he'd expressed his wishes as. And the fact that he'd spied on her, sent her that card on her birthday, and had done everything that he had for her now to make her his apprentice… There had to be something more.

"You are wasting valuable time," he said. "And an apprentice should never dare speak to her Master like that. You are lucky I don't dismiss you."

So this was how things were going to be. He would choose to rebuke her again. Fine. Rebecca was a Slytherin and knew when to bide her time. He could not hide the truth from her forever.

"Take a shower, put up your hair as I've instructed you, and then get down to the lab. I will meet you in thirty minutes' time to see what you've begun brewing. And make certain it is not something any first year could do."

Rebecca stepped away from him, her shoulders set and her body rigid with irritation.

Thirty minutes later saw her already setup down in the lab, the base for her potion already beginning to come to a boil. She set herself to chopping ingredients, being careful to calm herself before doing so. She didn't want more ridicule for being unable to control herself and taking it out on her potions ingredients.

The solution for her hair made her brow itch, but it was easy enough to ignore. Her clothes were tighter than what she might normally wear, but it was perfect for brewing conditions. There were no sleeves to get caught in ingredients or hang into boiling cauldrons.

Soon the base had its usual consistency, so Rebecca set about to perfecting the ingredients for the next few steps. It was really about forty minutes before the door to the staircase opened and Severus entered the room, having donned his robes for the occasion. He walked over to the table and peered into the cauldron, then at her workspace where she busied herself.

"Veritaserum," he said.

"Something not many could even begin to complete for their N.E.W.T.s," Rebecca muttered, knife carefully splitting the hellebore.

"This will take nearly the whole month."

She paused her knife so she could glance up at him. "I know. I was waiting for you to come downstairs before starting on my own potion while I wait for this to brew. As you stated were the rules."

Severus gave a curt nod. "What potion is this? Something to rival the great Venenum of Animus?"

As far as he could tell, the marketing scheme Brauer had set her up with was going to make her fairly comfortable for a long time, at least until other brewers began to catch onto her techniques and ingredients. That could be next year, or it could be never. There was no way to tell. But the potion was already selling fairly well, especially since its timely release for the holidays. Oddly enough, journals dealing with potions found that the potion had been bought more just before Valentine's Day than on Christmas. Perhaps a way to show your love how much you truly care for them. It nearly made him roll his eyes.

Rebecca shrugged. "I'm not sure about that, but I think it will be a significant contribution to the wizarding world nonetheless. Let me finish these."

He watched her careful chopping movements. Once she was finished, she put a stasis charm upon the hellebore and then turned the flames up on the potion in nearly the same movement. She looked back to him.

"I'm going to create a salve that will, over time, reduce the appearance of or make scars disappear altogether," she said. "I believe it will only work against natural scars, perhaps not those gained by other means, but it has the potential to work on werewolf scars, deep cuts that weren't fully healed by essence of dittany, or any natural cuts a wizard or witch obtained before being able to use magic, if they're muggleborn."

He nodded along as she spoke.

"I've created a preliminary ingredient list, but obviously haven't written it down. I may have been training with Brauer, but I don't trust other brewers with my knowledge," she said, heading for the storeroom.

Once she was out of his line of sight, Severus couldn't help but smirk. At least that had stuck with her. She returned less than a minute later, carrying two jars of ingredients and placing them on the table before him.

"Obviously, dittany is going to be one of the main ingredients," she said. "The second will be bubotuber pus. After that, fluxweed, nettles, porcupine quills, a rat spleen, and flobberworm mucus to increase its consistency since it needs to be applied to the skin. I'm playing around with the idea of adding daisies for a more pleasant smell since the fluxweed may make a very unpleasant aroma, but it may affect the efficacy of the potion, so I'll need to experiment a bit."

Before he could respond, she'd turned to the now simmering cauldron, peered over its edge, and turned and waved her wand over the hellebore in stasis. She took half of it into her hands and turned back to the cauldron, adding in the ingredient as she stirred the potion slowly counter-clockwise. Once the first half of the hellebore was in the cauldron, she turned the flames down a touch as she moved to retrieve the second half and repeated the task. Only then did she look up at him.

Severus forgot how intense she became when brewing. It was a pleasure to watch someone else enjoy creating a potion from scratch. He cleared his throat.

"I am certain that the amount of daisies needed to override the somewhat unpleasant smell of the fluxweed will not have a terrible effect on the potion as a whole," he said. "How long do you surmise it will take to brew?"

"I imagine it will be simplistic, much like a boil cure potion, but the dittany will need more time to simmer in order to get the best out of its healing properties," Rebecca said, her brows furrowing as she thought deeply about the question. "I think it will only need to simmer for perhaps eight hours with the main ingredients before adding the others. The flobberworm pus will go in last, and then the potion may need to simmer for anywhere between one to two hours to make sure it thickens to the desired consistency."

"Get started on it right now," he said. "You intend for its effects to be visible over time?"

"Yes," she said, setting up a second cauldron as she spoke.

He moved to stand against the wall, out of her way. And so that he could simply watch.

"Depending upon the severity of the scars, it will affect each one differently," Rebecca continued, filling the second cauldron about half-way with water. "A thirty minute application every day should reduce even the deepest of scars within the first month."

"Have you thought of those you wish to ask to help test this salve?" Severus asked. "You'll need a group with differing types of scars."

Rebecca nodded, turning the flames up as hot as they could go. She retreated back into the storeroom to gather the rest of the ingredients.

"I'll be one of the test subjects, just to see how it affects different scars on the same person," she said. "Bill has also agreed, as have Remus and Arthur. I'm going to owl Luna and Mr. Ollivander tomorrow morning to see if they wish to participate." She spared him a glance before looking back to the ingredients in the jars before her. "I'd appreciate if you would be one of my subjects. I'm curious how it would react to snake bites or venomous bites."

"We shall see," he said neutrally. "You will need more female subjects. Ten subjects total should be fine for something in so short a time span."

Rebecca had already turned to cutting up the ingredients she would need. It was as if she were in a world all her own; his words could not get to her. Seamlessly, she went from cutting one ingredient to obtaining a mortar and pestle for another. But she turned to the sink to wash her hands off, using the method he'd taught her just two days ago to make sure nothing was contaminated.

Quietly, he watched her work, choosing to think of other female subjects she could use. Most magical persons didn't find themselves with many scars. Access to dittany was usually not a problem.

After a long time, when the base for her new potion had been created and the first ingredients, the ones that would need to simmer until early in the morning, placed into it, she finally turned around.

"I'll need to ask Ginny and Hermione if they have any," she said. "Maybe Minerva."

"If you can get them to agree, then I believe that will be a decent enough subject group to convince the Ministry of the salve's usefulness. Make sure you write up a consent form and copy it for each of them and have them sign it. It's a test run, after all."

Rebecca nodded. "I'll do that while the two potions simmer. _Accio parchment, ink well, and quill_."

The spell was said in an off-hand tone, while she was checking the temperature of the potions. She looked up in time to catch the items she'd Summoned to her, turning to the empty work table and setting them down. She then returned the jars of ingredients to the storeroom. Once that was complete, she washed her hands once more before she put the stool at the edge of the empty work table so that he could see her profile from where he stood, and she could easily see if either of the potions needed her attention.

He couldn't take his eyes off her as she began to write. Her focus had not changed. She was as intent as ever, and she acted as though he wasn't even in the same room as her.

"It's very difficult to think while you're staring."

Her eyes were only for the parchment in front of her, but her quill tip hovered, as it had done for the last few moments.

"If you want to see what I'm writing, drag the second stool over here," she continued. "I'm sure it'll be much easier to see than standing half-way across the room."

Unable to think of anything to say in retaliation, Severus simply did as she bid him to. It was an easier way out than to try and think of another excuse as to why he'd been staring. He sat with his back to the potions, so he would also be able to see the door, which was the only entrance and exit into the room.

"I see you still have issues sitting with your back to an exit," he remarked as he took his seat. Had he been any closer, he was certain their knees might touch. That would certainly send the wrong message now.

"Old habits die hard," she muttered, dipping her quill into the ink well before putting it once more to the parchment.

She tried to focus at the task at hand, but his new proximity to her seemed to only increase the heat in the room. Perhaps it would have been better to let him stare at her from afar. He couldn't leave her down here by herself since she was brewing something that wasn't Ministry-approved. They would be down here for quite a long time, with little else to do but talk. Considering the already tense minutes they'd had in just three days, she wasn't certain she was prepared for this just yet.

He was really being ridiculous. Telling her it was inappropriate for anything to happen between them while having just pinned her against a mirror in the lavatory. Honestly. He was some sort of emotional wreck, that was for certain. Perhaps that could be a topic for discussion.

She finished the draft and signed it, then leaving a space for another signature at the bottom. She pushed it to him and watched him as he read it. His face was relaxed somewhat, but she could see that his shoulders were tense. There was really no reason that they should be. He nodded after he was finished reading.

"That you may send out," he said.

"Dealing with bureaucratic bullshit for the past year has helped me understand the way they wish for things to be worded," she said with a smirk, taking out her wand.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a smirk. "Yes. Politicians are quite the dunderheaded sorts to deal with on a daily basis."

She copied the letter another nine times and signed her name again to the original copy. "It seems silly, but they'll want it anyway, I'm sure," she said with a shrug, setting it off to the side.

She looked at one of the copies for a moment, considering. Finally, she pushed it toward him, setting the quill on top of it.

Severus stared at the parchment. To sign it would mean he would have to reveal the severity of his wounds to someone else. He had little desire to do so, especially to her. He didn't appreciate coddling of any kind. But she wasn't watching him, wasn't putting any sort of pressure on him to sign. The option, however, was certainly there. And this would mean much to her, both personally and professionally. So he took the quill into his hand and signed his name on the provided line. Once finished, he pushed the parchment back toward her.

The smile she rewarded him with was enough recognition for his deed.

"Thank you," she said, taking up the parchment and setting it on top of her signed copy. "I'll send the rest of these out tomorrow. The owl may interrupt Ginny's honeymoon, but they'll need to come up for air at some point, I suppose." She shrugged.

Why she'd said that, she wasn't sure. It would have been normal for her to joke about such things with any of her other friends. But she wasn't certain how he would react.

He simply shook his head. "Newlywed love is the most irksome to deal with, indeed."

"You should've seen Bill and Fleur," Rebecca said, making a face. "Not enough Memory-Erasing Charms in the world sometimes."

He snorted. It was such an unexpected gesture that it made her smile, then start chuckling. She covered her mouth, trying to get a hold of herself. She managed, able to speak again.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten how to laugh."

"You are not the first to express a similar sentiment," he said with a roll of his eyes. "However, I have many emotions. I'm simply much better at concealing them than most."

"I've noticed," Rebecca replied. She put her elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly. "Except for recently."

Severus realized he'd allowed himself to be trapped into this conversation. But with little else to do but talk, it was bound to come up. And talking about it would be better than pretending the problem didn't exist.

"I find myself uncertain of you at many times," he said. "Unfortunately, it has an effect on my mood. I've only begun to become comfortable with expressing more emotions than neutrality and rage, much to the surprise, concern, and confusion of most of the student population. You will need to be patient with me in this respect."

"Uncertain how?"

"I imagine much in the way you're uncertain of me."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently not," he said. "I find it difficult to let go of my anger. I'm still angry with you for many reasons, most especially your lapse in judgment concerning Flint. But I also, logically, realize there is little I can do about those things now."

"So I send you into a fury so great that you admit you had planned on doing me physical harm last summer?" Her tone was incredulous.

"That is not precisely—"

"Then what is it?"

"Complex," he said, giving her an even look.

"Well, we have approximately… seven and a half hours. I'm listening."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You're the one who pushed me into this apprenticeship," Rebecca said.

"A decision I'm beginning to severely regret."

"Let's start here, then. Why do you want me to stay in England?"

"We'll return to the notion that despite my anger toward you still, I also do not hate you, not at all my sentiments upon your departure," he said. "It is clear to me that my actions toward you were a large reason as to your leaving. I am attempting to rectify what harm I've done."

"So you feel guilty."

She identified the emotion perfectly. His lips thinned at her statement. Too perfectly.

"I understand you're not emotionally devoid, not like many people thought," Rebecca continued. "I'm simply trying to pin down, in terms I can understand, your reasoning and logic behind things. As I told you earlier, I can't get a solid reading on you, and you're the only person I've had difficulty with. Even Tom's motivations were clear."

"The Dark Lord was very monomaniacal when it came to the world," Severus muttered.

"Yes, but you're not. You're very complex, much like the situation we find ourselves in. And while you know I enjoy a challenge, I'd prefer not to think of you as some sort of puzzle I can simply figure out."

"And what would you prefer to think of me as?" he asked, eyebrow raised in direct challenge.

His gaze was back to being intent, almost taking on the same expression as he had just before he'd set her upon the counter in the lavatory.

"I'd like to think of you as a friend," she said. "Something I think we were last year, during the war. It was certainly more than allies."

Her face was completely open to him. No more masks, no more trying to hide. There were no crowds here, nothing to frighten her. And she was telling the complete truth. He was dumbstruck as to how to respond.

"I know that pretty much everywhere you've looked for friendship, you've only found people who wanted to use you," Rebecca said, resting her hand against her neck and her elbow on the table, effectively propping her head up. "Or others who didn't really see the true value in you, I guess. I've started to realize, in my time in America, what that's like. In short, it sucks. I don't think that you want anything to do with me because of what I can do for you. And I want you to know that I won't use you, and that I never planned on it at any point."

All he could do was look at her. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed forward, pushing through the kindness that she had offered him. It was time that he lay down the law, in a manner of speaking. She could not be permitted to try and get to him. Even if this was sincerity, and he highly suspected that it was, he couldn't allow her to reach him this way.

"While the sentiment is certainly kind, that is not what is going to occur," he said. "You are my apprentice, and then, most likely, you will be my colleague."

"So colleagues can't be friends?"

"I do not believe we would make the type of friends that you wish," Severus said. "Stick with your Gryffindors, Miss Felan."

"You do realize that I'm good friends with other people beside Gryffindors."

"I realize that you are the perfect Slytherin who molds to whatever others wish of her," he said. "Cunning, resourceful, ambitious."

"At least you've finally decided to admit I'm a Slytherin," Rebecca said, sitting up straight. "Though you also think that I'm trying to manipulate you somehow, which I find offensive."

"There is no reason for me to think otherwise. For the past four years of your life, it is all you have been doing."

"Because four years definitely trumps nineteen," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know what sort of game you're attempting to play with me, but I'm not going to play it. I'm done with stupid Slytherin ploys."

She stood and checked upon her potions at the next table.

"I am simply trying to get you to realize, Miss Felan, that your friendship is neither desired nor appreciated, and neither are any of your other affections."

Her hand hit the table. The noise didn't carry far in the somewhat small laboratory, but it was loud enough to draw his attention to her.

"So allow me to present the situation as I see it, to make certain I'm not missing anything," she said, her voice crisp. "I am not allowed to be your friend, say kind things toward you, or tell you that I don't hate you because it's construed as me being in love with you. You, however, are free to practically physically assault me, stare at me openly, and imply that you have all of these emotions toward me, and I'm simply supposed to accept it."

He glared at her.

"Yes. Obviously, that makes _perfect_ sense."

They stared at each other, neither willing to break the eye contact or the intensity of the gaze.

"My Patronus is a fox," he said. "And it has been since I was released from Azkaban last summer."

"Cast it, then." Rebecca gestured to the empty space in front of her. "End this argument once and for all. If it's a fox, I'll ignore whatever inconsistencies are in your story and we'll be colleagues, just like you want."

He stood, removing his wand from his robes. This challenge he knew he could pass. And it would push her, finally, away from him. This feeling in his gut concerning her would go away, and no longer would she pester him about friendship or any other silly notions. He could close yet another chapter in his book.

"_Expecto Patronum_."

The silvery substance shot from the end of his wand. Already, he carried a smug look. But the silver was soon much bigger than he anticipated. His smirk fell as the creature before him grew much larger than his fox, though it retained the same basic shape as the four-footed creature. A wolf. Gods damn it.

Rebecca stayed perfectly still, not truly expecting to see her Patronus mimicked before her, especially coming from the tip of Severus Snape's wand. Her eyes were wide, even as she glanced at him. He, too, was surprised to see the new shape of his Patronus. With a wave of his wand, he banished the creature. The two were silent.

Severus put his wand inside his robes, but did not look at her. His mind raced. This was not part of what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to push her from him, to force her to find someone more suitable. He was not supposed to draw her closer, not to give her any sort of reason to think they would have any sort of chance whatsoever.

"Honestly, I didn't expect you to have the same Patronus," Rebecca said quietly.

"It would appear that my consciousness is oversaturated with that odorous veil you consider perfume," he said, slowly looking up at her, his hair obscuring half of his face. Upon the other half she could clearly see his sneer. "And it is affecting my conjuring abilities."

"I—my perfume isn't—"

The pure rage upon his face she had only seen a few times before. She recalled the night of Hermione and Ron's wedding, just after she'd told him her secret. He had already been angry enough to lay hands upon her then, which she'd been able to block for the most part. Would he do the same now?

He pressed forward, making her take a step back from him.

The door to the lab was shut, and the room felt heavy with the sound and smell of brewing. The feeling of entrapment took her over once more. She sought to put some distance between them, to force herself to calm down. But his stare was so dense and never-ending, his footsteps matching her own. Rebecca could feel her breath coming more shallowly.

Suddenly, he was directly in her face. She jerked back from him.

"You are dismissed, Miss Felan," he growled.

Rebecca could barely hold herself in place.

"My potion…"

He moved faster than she'd seen anyone moved in a while, and her arm raised in defense of herself. But he flourished his wand, and her cauldron with her own creation emptied, vanishing into nothing. He turned back to face her, wand still gripped tightly in his hand, his teeth bared.

"I said, 'you're dismissed,'" he uttered.

The final look he gave her drove her from the room. His voice was practically feral, his appearance no better. She was out the door and up the stairs quickly enough that she didn't hear the door at the bottom of the staircase slamming when she stood in the lavatory.

Her hand went to her face as she took in deep breaths to try and calm herself. He wasn't actually going to harm her, she tried to force herself to understand. But already a cold sweat had broken out upon her brow. Rebecca sighed. He'd simply been using this problem against her. Stupidly, she'd fallen for it.

She still had a lot to work on. For now, she couldn't think about what had just transpired in the lab. And she needed to get this stuff out of her hair.

Severus sat upon the stool that he'd vacated some time ago, when their argument had reached its crescendo. She had been scared—thoroughly so. He'd been surprised she'd had the wherewithal to ask after her potion. It had been cruel and unfair, and he'd utilized her weakest point to his advantage. His hand covered his face as he leaned against the work table.

His Patronus _had_ been a fox when he'd been released. What had forced it to change? When had it changed and he'd not known it? His memory had been no different than it had last summer, and she did not feature in it at all, not that it mattered. Perhaps after his talk with Albert. But it could have also been her birthday. It could have been any day, but did it really matter? His Patronus was something different, altogether new, and exactly like hers.

She had not waved it in his face, like he expected; she had also been surprised. And this, in turn, surprised him. He was going to have to end this. He couldn't train her, not when there was so much on the line, not when he could mess up particularly badly this time around.

He stood from the table and made his way to the staircase. He Vanished the contents in the second cauldron, knowing he should really clean them. And later tonight, he would, after she'd been fully dismissed. He took each stair a step at a time and worked out what he was going to tell her. She would have to take this second rebuking; there was no way around it.

When he entered the lavatory, he heard no water running, nor had he while he'd been thinking down in the lab. But the room was full of steam. The shower had been freshly used. He turned toward the entrance to her quarters, but heard the sound of water moving about in the tub. And he couldn't help but turn around.

He could only view her from the shoulders up, as bubbles nearly cascaded over the edges of the large tub. As quickly as he'd turned toward the sound did he look away, though he could honestly see nothing. And she simply looked at him, arms resting on either side of the tub, an irritated expression upon her face.

"I didn't think you'd be up quite so quickly," he heard her say, irritation in her tone.

"I need to speak with you, Miss Felan." He knew he'd said it. His lips had moved and his vocal chords had too made the motions. But it was like he was listening to a completely different voice.

"I don't much feel like talking right now," she said, anger at the forefront once more, "particularly to you."

"I can no longer rightfully have you as my apprentice."

He heard the water moving again and glanced over his shoulder. The tub was rather large, so it had been quite simple for her to submerge herself completely. She emerged, hair slicked back. Her hands wiped the bubbles from her face, but the remainder of her body stayed hidden.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do about that right this instant," she answered, leaning back into her previous position.

He turned to face the wall of the lavatory once more. "Miss Felan, this is not up for debate."

A huge surge of water moved, and next he heard dripping. His body went rigid when the sound of her foot hitting the tile reached his ears. He longed to turn, and that was precisely the problem. But she knew him too well. He would not turn. And the fact that she knew that and used that to her advantage made him understand her feelings when he'd forced her to leave the lab. Gods. He couldn't make her forfeit this apprenticeship.

She stood next to him, clad in a towel, firmly wrapping her own arms around her upper body as she stood, water dripping off her still. No words. His hands clenched more tightly. She didn't speak, only stared, watching him. His lips formed a thin line. But still she didn't move. And he could see her out of his peripherals, simply staring him down. Anger, lust, irritation, confusion, and a fear gripped him all at once. How long could they both stand here? How long would she force him to stand here?

"By the look upon your face, it seems that I'm staying," she said. And, if possible, she took a step closer.

She nearly touched him. Nearly. Instead, she whispered to him.

"Now you know how it feels."

He only let his muscles loosen when the door to her quarters shut behind her. Severus let out a sigh, looking at the floor as he listened to the sound of the tub draining. He pinched the bridge of his nose before turning to glare at her door.

"Gods damn it," he muttered, making his way to the door of the lab.

He went back down the stairs and began cleaning out the cauldron, something he'd meant for her to do. But he knew if he didn't do this action himself, he'd break something from his anger. And he knew that if he went upstairs and got her, it wouldn't keep him from recalling the beauty of her skin and how it glistened, even being such an innocuous part of her body. He'd want to touch her, and then the rest of his thin hold upon his self-control would shatter.


	16. Training Con't, Early to Late July

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for Rebecca. I don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **Once more, I'd like to thank my friend and RP partner Mandy and my friend Lauren for their help with this. You're both awesome.

I'm writing the rest of this chapter as quickly as I can. This part and the one I published last night have been sitting around, and I figured posting it as one large chapter might be too much, so here it is. Forgive my possible inconsistencies with the British language. I'm trying to work on converting everything to British English, but some habits die hard.

Also, I love comments.

_Songs for this Chapter:  
_

__"True Colors" Cyndi Lauper

* * *

_Brewing & Nightmares, July 12-13, 1999_

Severus had permitted Rebecca into the lab early the next morning. While her second attempt at her scar-healing potion brewed, she wrote out the letters to her friends, and even one to Jamie, while Severus sat upon the stool across the room from her. The room was filled with the sounds of the potion bubbling, and Rebecca could hear herself breathing. But there was nothing else.

At lunch, she sent the owls out that needed to reach those whose locations were known. Ginny's letter she sent via Draco's box, which he'd given to her the week before. She'd left her own box in America so she could write to Jamie and the others. Already, Rebecca planned upon nominating Jamie for the Head Auror position. He would be much better at it than he would think, and she was certain Minister Smith would agree.

Then it was back down to the lab. Severus spoke to her long enough to inform her she was to stock Poppy's potion stores before the term began. He handed her a long list of items. Rebecca sighed. The potions were simple, mostly, aside from the Skele-Gro, which was slightly more complex. But the amounts needed were large. She got down two of the biggest cauldrons and began with the potions that would keep the longest. And so the afternoon passed.

Her potion was done and ready to bottle just before dinner. When she went up the stairs, she found she'd received replies to all of her letters along with signed forms, which she placed in the nightstand drawer, safe and warded.

Rebecca excused herself from dinner in order to deliver the vials of potion to those who had requested them. Ginny's potion was sent via the box with instructions. The rest of the vials she placed, carefully wrapped and protected, inside of her bag along with multiple sets of instructions. Each person she visited and explained the process and what the salve was supposed to do. She asked them all to keep a short, daily journal detailing how their scars progressed.

While she was gone, which she said might keep her away until as late as ten that evening, Severus went to dinner with the three other staff members in the Great Hall, explaining where his apprentice was. For the most part, he kept quiet. He went back to his quarters, feeling as though the space was much emptier.

He tried to read, but found it difficult to do. She had been penning a letter to Jamie Turner once her other letters were finished. Curiosity was running rampant through his mind. She stated that they were merely friends, but tales of the man had even reached this side of the Atlantic. And the image of the other man making her laugh, giving her that care-free look… The memory assaulted his senses.

Finally, he put the paper down and stood, walking the length of the lavatory and stopping at the door that led to her quarters. This was a huge breach of the flimsy trust she'd put in him, and he paused with his hand upon the doorknob.

But still he turned it and entered her sitting room, nearly running into the piano she had set up. It barely fit, and it seemed quite a silly thing to want. Perhaps it did help with her dexterity, he thought idly as he made his way around it, eyes peering about the room for this box she spoke of that Granger—Mrs. Weasley—had made and given to them all.

There was not a free spot upon her small bookshelf that had been provided. The walls were also sparsely covered with wizarding photographs, mostly of her and her Gryffindors. Many images of them at the Burrow. The Weasleys. One of the Malfoys. But the box was not in this room.

Next he opened the door, slowly, to her bedroom. It was tidy, though there were more books stacked neatly upon either nightstand and upon her dresser. Severus found himself wondering if, upon her being told by her father that she was no longer welcome in his home, she had managed to retrieve all of her possessions. She might have carried everything with her in her trunk. He knew that their parents, though dissimilar for the most part, had treated the two of them rather negligently. She might not have had much. Had she acquired all of these things since entering the wizarding world, or even while she'd been in America?

Her closet door was open, and he peered inside, still intent upon finding that box. Her clothes screamed of Narcissa's doing, almost all of them. Except for some of the clothing in the back—those struck him more of her choice of muggle clothing. As his search continued, he wondered how she would appear in simple jeans and a blouse. But, unfortunately, she would always have her outer beauty, and his imagination was far too active, thanks to being in her room uninvited. So he had to stop those thoughts.

This room, too, had its walls adorned in photographs. One in particular caught his eye, the blasted picture he'd told Albus never to take. He'd never seen it after he'd been forced to stand on the outskirts of the small group that was the Order. How had she come by it? It held a place of prominence, just beside the mirror next to the closet. She would probably look at it as she dressed for each day. Severus watched the people in the photograph. Moody and the remaining Marauders surrounded her, just coming into her adult visage. Moody laid a protective hand upon her shoulder. She did not flinch. Black looked as though he were trying to play some sort of game with her. She laughed. Lupin stood in the back, looking longingly at Tonks, who stood two or three people down. Even with Moody and Black keeping her occupied, Severus still noticed that she would look over at his replica in the photograph every so often and smile. But his replica did not notice.

He shook his head, finally turning away from the photograph before Albus' eyes could twinkle at him anymore. His search continued.

Finally, he saw it. Somewhat hidden under the other side of the bed, though about half of it was mostly visible. He leaned over to pick it up, careful not to touch anything except the box, which he would then wipe off once he was finished with it. He opened it and found a piece of parchment inside. He laid the box upon the bed and opened the folded parchment.

The handwriting was messy, half script and half print, and somewhat large—definitely male. As the letter reached the middle, it began to slant to the right, more so as the letter grew longer. But the lines were straight.

_Rebecca,_

The fact that you've already created another potion set to change the world doesn't surprise me. I'd like to point out that I have a scar I'd like to get rid of, so I'll be happy to participate in your study if you'll have me.

_In case you're curious (though I'm sure you're not), there have been the few general questions after your health and your activities, mostly asking how the weddings were. There were pictures in the papers here of you, which the Aurors loved. Some a little too much. Don't worry, I kept them in their places. The photo of you and Snape… you nearly looked yourself, if a bit irritated. Hopefully I don't get a smack to the head when you get back for that. _

_And yes, I think you did the right thing by staying, even when he was prepared to dismiss you. If this is something you truly want, you have to be able to stand up for yourself. It was really low of him to try and use your issues against you. Honestly, what's his problem, Rebecca? _

_You're going to hate me for being so honest about all of this, but I can't understand this situation. You know how I wished we could have been something. We're good friends as it stands, and both of us realize the other has certain advantages as a partner… But our kiss proved our incompatibility. But you said even he reacted when you kissed him to trick him into saving his life. He has your Patronus. And he's acting strangely. To me, it's obvious that he's in love with you. _

_Snape's a moron for denying you again, plain and simple. If I were in your situation, I would've told him to go fuck himself by now and moved on. But you have that patience I can't comprehend. You're a stronger person than me for sticking this out. _

_I'll miss you if you stay in Britain, even if it's where you belong. I'll have to visit._

_Best wishes,_

_Jamie_

By the end of the letter, Severus was furious and wanted to tear it up, the memory of his jaunt to America replaying in his mind. Instead, he folded the parchment and placed it back inside the box, then wiped it off as best he could with his robes, picking it up with his hand wrapped in his robes, and replaced it where he'd found it. Then he made his way back to his own sitting room.

He didn't pick up the paper again, not interested in any of the news of the day or anything else. He fumed over the words of a man who didn't know him, who didn't understand what he was trying to do for that girl. And he fumed because he clearly saw the value in Rebecca. They had kissed. How many times had they been alone? Did he pine after her constantly enough that he could be so flippant in his expression of his want to desire her?

Severus found himself pacing the room without realizing it.

He'd nearly started writing a reply to Turner's letter, but had shaken his head at his own rage-induced actions. That helped him to calm somewhat. But there was nothing that he could do about any of this. Absolutely nothing. Eventually, his leg bothered him enough that he took his seat once more, but thought on his reasoning for drawing Rebecca so close to him once more. He would be torturing himself if she stayed. But her remaining in Britain was the best thing for her. It would help her to heal.

He had a plan formulated by the time he heard her entering the lavatory. He picked up the paper once more and opened it, settling just before she opened the door.

"I delivered everything," she said. "So at least the most difficult part is over. Now I just have to wait."

Severus let the silence in the room draw out for a few moments before lowering his paper. She was standing just a foot in front of him, holding out two vials of her salve.

"These are yours," she said. "The trial begins tomorrow morning. Please apply this to your snake wounds and any others you see fit by following these instructions."

With her free hand, she pulled out a parchment. Severus leaned forward and took the items from her.

"I'll continue on the potions Poppy needs for her stores tomorrow morning," she said. "I'm tired."

"Dismissed," Severus muttered, leaning back in his chair.

Rebecca gave a sigh of relief before turning back the way she'd come. He didn't hear anything on her side after that.

Severus waited, thinking that she would discover that he had been inside of her quarters while she was gone. But she didn't emerge that night.

The next morning saw her down in the lab even before he was. Her hair was done up in the style required of her and her head was bent over a cauldron. She didn't make any motion or word that she acknowledged his presence, focused entirely on her work. Severus knew that she was a great brewer already. He just hoped she would be a much better teacher than he'd been.

It was fifteen minutes before she spoke, and only when both of the potions that she was working on simultaneously were both no longer in need of her attention for a time. She glanced up at him, sitting across the room from her once more, black eyes watching her intently.

"I'm glad that you find my personal letters much more interesting a read than the _Prophet_," Rebecca said, keeping her tone light, "but the next time you enter my quarters while I'm away, you'll find a few surprises for you."

Rebecca turned back to her potions, not taking any more notice of him. She didn't want an explanation and she didn't really wish to speak to him about any of what he'd read. And he didn't speak, either. No apology would come, and she knew she wouldn't ever receive one, not for anything. But that was simply who he was.

She worked on her potions until it was time for lunch. The Pepper-Up Potion was done first, so she bottled it all up and cleaned the cauldron properly before washing her hands and turning to him.

"Lunch?"

He nodded, and they went to the Great Hall. Upon returning, the remainder of their day was spent in silence. Dinner came and went, and then he had her reciting random potion ingredients, steps, and other classroom procedures in his study until eleven o'clock.

"I really need to get this stuff out of my hair and get to bed," Rebecca said, scratching at her forehead for what felt like the millionth time. "I'm getting up early again tomorrow to continue brewing."

"Attempting to get through Poppy's list as quickly as possible?" he asked.

"Well, they're not very interesting or challenging potions, are they?" Rebecca asked, standing. "And _someone_ Vanished my Veritaserum, or I'd at least have a project to do on the side already."

"Dismissed," he said with a roll of his eyes.

She didn't look back at him as she left the room. She hadn't said anything half as normal as her parting words. Everything she'd said all day had been short. Severus couldn't help but wonder how she'd known he'd been in her quarters. He must have left some trace of something behind. But he replayed his steps over and over, not recalling anything that he could have done to tip her off to his visit or his reading the letter.

It was perhaps midnight when he'd finally been able to settle his thoughts enough to begin reading a potions journal, one he'd received by owl that day. He'd barely opened it when he heard her scream. Shrill. Loud. In danger.

The journal was thrown carelessly to the floor as Severus pushed himself out of his chair. He covered the space between their rooms and even traversed quickly through her sitting room, despite the piano being in his way, faster than he'd moved in a long time. He threw open her door, having assessed that there were no issues in her sitting area. He flicked his wand and the light in the room turned on. There was no one in the room but her. A nightmare. It had to be one of the nightmares she'd told him of.

She lay on the bed, clothed in the same tank top and pajama pants she'd been wearing the weekend she'd stayed with him after receiving her Dark Mark. She was doubled up on herself, shielding her head from phantom blows. Without heeding her warning, Severus went directly to her side, but paused, unsure of how to proceed.

She whimpered, her whole body shaking. And the sound broke him. He sat on the edge of the bed, making her flinch away from him. Slowly, he reached forward, laying his hand gently upon her shoulder.

"No!" she cried, moving across the bed quickly. "I said go away!"

"Miss Felan, you are safe," he replied calmly. "You must wake up."

She was shaking her head, and Severus couldn't understand. She must think it a trick. All of his night terrors—and this was most certainly what this was—came back to him. The most recurring ones stayed with him, even in his waking hours sometimes, because they were always the ones that seemed the most realistic. It was why she could respond to the stimuli around her, and why she reacted so violently when others tried to wake her.

Severus reached across the bed and took her gently by her wrist. Her hand reached out to slap his away, but he was prepared and caught it. She struggled, pushing away as he tried to draw her closer.

"Stop," she said sternly. "I'm not a spy."

It was enough to make Severus pause. She still relived the nightmare of that night. Guilt overtook him even as he pulled her closer to him, Rebecca still struggling against his grip.

"Rebecca," he said, "you are safe."

"…what you want me to think."

Severus was barely able to dodge the kick she sent his way. Finally, he had her against his chest, her arms pinned against him. He drew her to him, nearly crushing her under his tight grip. She set her jaw, still letting out bursts of energy to try and tear past his grip.

"Rebecca," Severus whispered, "you have no idea how much I regret what happened to you that night." She pushed against his chest, pounded her fists against him, though it was weak. "What he did was intolerable." Renewed shoving, growling under her breath. "But I am not Greyback. I will not harm you, no matter what you may think." She stopped pushing against him, seemed to consider what he had to say. "You must wake up."

It took a moment, but her eyes began to slowly open. Her shoulders relaxed, and he could feel the tension leaving the rest of her as she began to realize where she was. Rebecca turned her face upward, so she could better see him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked, her voice heavy still with sleep and the hoarseness that comes with screaming.

"No."

She didn't move from his grip, which was still fairly tight. Her eyes flicked down, no longer meeting his. She was embarrassed. How could she not remember to put up her wards? When she glanced back up, he still looked down upon her, concern written upon his face.

"Why didn't you tell me what happened that night?" she whispered, her throat feeling sore.

His brows furrowed.

"When I got my Mark. I thought you were Sirius. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You needed to stay focused. It would have upset you, had I related what occurred that night. There was no reason to tell you. I did not believe you remembered."

"I didn't. I found the memory while I was sorting through my nightmares and dreams in a Pensieve. I thought it might help with my night terrors. You can see how well it worked."

She shifted, no longer needing his embrace to remind her where she was. His grip tightened momentarily before easing and allowing her to sit up. Rebecca pushed her hair from her face, looking down again.

"It wasn't your fault," Rebecca said quietly. "None of what happened to me is your fault. That's something you're going to have to realize."

Severus didn't speak, not sure what he was supposed to say in return. It was difficult not to blame himself for her being taken that night and for everything that transpired afterward. It was even harder not to think that there could have been some way to spare her from the war. But it wasn't to be. Just as she'd told him so many times. Her choices to make.

The silence in the room had become unbearable. So finally, he spoke.

"How did you know?"

"You inadvertently sent the letter back to Jamie when you closed the box," Rebecca answered. "He sent it back with a note asking if he'd offended me, which he hadn't. The only explanation I could come up with was that you'd read it since you'd seen me writing to him in the lab." She rubbed her right eye. "I'm curious why you'd be interested in either of those letters."

"I have been told Jamie Turner is rather a womanizer."

Rebecca scoffed. "And I would've been unable to protect myself against his desires, I suppose?"

Severus frowned.

"If it means anything, I agree with Jamie's assessment," Rebecca said, looking at him sideways, half of her face obscured by her hair.

"If you believe what he says to be true, then why do you stay?" Severus asked, feeling the irritation and anger slowly beginning to bubble up within him. "Surely I have shown you I am not willing to bend or break in this regard."

"You know how I enjoy a challenge, Severus," Rebecca said, smiling softly. "And no matter how much you may get on my nerves or how much I get on your own, I'm going to stay with this apprenticeship until the end, regardless of my own feelings on the matter."

Severus felt the anger disintegrating, leaving him feeling daft.

"I want to be a professor. I love Potions. Despite its bad memories, I love Hogwarts. It's been the only place that's really felt like home. I want to be here for my friends. And I can't keep running from my problems. Not even you."

Rebecca drew her legs up toward her chest so she could rest her chin upon her knees.

"You don't scare me, Severus. My fears are pretty few now. And in some weird way, I think this apprenticeship will help me more than therapy ever did. I can already notice the changes. That's the first night terror I've had since coming back to England. I'm not so constantly on edge. And I don't feel angry every second of every day."

Severus simply looked at her, unable to formulate the appropriate words for this conversation that had taken a turn he hadn't expected it to.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is this: I don't expect anything from you except to teach me. I already forced a decision upon you once before and incurred your wrath because of it. I don't tend to make the same mistake twice."

She stretched out, feeling more at peace now that she'd gotten those words off her chest. Though her body tried to betray her by reacting to his close proximity, Rebecca shut it down quickly. Yes, she still loved him. Maybe she always would. But he had drawn his line, even with all of these contrary signals he sent her. She was tired of pushing, tired of pursuing. Clearly, he did not want this no matter what she or others thought. It was all up to him. So she would stop trying. And it would be easy to desensitize herself to him now that he was here, now that they still had more than a month to go in this apprenticeship.

"So, thank you for waking me up from my nightmare," she said, "but I'm going to try and get some sleep again."

Severus stood and nodded in her direction. "Good night, Rebecca."

"Good night, Severus."

He shut her door and walked across her sitting area. Once he was on the other side of the lavatory, he paused. He would no longer have to concern himself with her in the emotional regard. There was still the possibility of it being some sort of trick, but from her tone and her look while saying it, Severus could tell she was as tired as she said.

But he felt strangely empty at her comments. Relieved, certainly, but that was just a minute part of the emotions coursing through him. It was time he go to bed. There was no use trying to interpreting emotions correctly while tired.

* * *

"Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? / I'm getting old and I need something to rely on. / So tell me when you're gonna let me in. / I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin. / And if you have a minute why don't we go / Talk about it somewhere only we know? / This could be the end of everything, / So why don't we go / Somewhere only we know?" Keane "Somewhere Only We Know"

_A Weekend Off, July 20-22, 1999_

The next week had gone by slowly. Their days were spent in the lab, both not speaking unless it was completely necessary. But Rebecca did not think that any of it was awkward. The silence was welcomed. And he was less likely to have her repeat potions ingredients and instructions to him at night, which allowed her to wander the castle as she pleased, recalling the old memories and thinking more on the emotions it caused her. Though there were still some places in the castle she'd rather not go to, by the end of the week she felt more comfortable in her surroundings. But she still hadn't gone to the Headmaster's old office. That she didn't feel prepared for. Moreover, she didn't want to speak with Albus' portrait.

Friday night saw Severus heading for his study after dinner. But Rebecca stopped him.

"Do you mind coming with me onto the grounds?" she said.

He turned to face her, noting the apprehension in her voice and the way she held her body, trying to make herself appear disinterested.

"Where do you wish to go?" he asked.

"To where Greyback took me," she said. "And where you found me."

"Why?"

"I've been going around the castle and thinking on everything that's happened there. It's helped somewhat. I think going to these places will, too. But I don't think I can go by myself."

"Very well."

So they set off at an amiable pace for the both of them, heading up out of the dungeons and into the Entrance Hall. Once out onto the grounds, the cool air hit them both at the same time. Severus looked over to her and saw her smiling softly. In the waning daylight, the way the rays of sun hit her hair made it glow as a true fire would. And that nearly made him smile.

"I don't hear you playing that piano you've so shoved into that sitting area of yours," he said.

"That's because I ward my room when I do," she said. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"You don't have to feel the need to do so unless you prefer playing at three in the morning. I enjoy piano music."

Rebecca nodded, watching as he tried to hide his limp. It was also possible it was simply not that bad today.

"Have you considered practicing yoga?" she asked, looking up from his leg to his face. "It's helped me with my knee. It could help you, too."

"My knee is fine."

Rebecca looked away, watching the way the light hit the rolling hills and the line of trees of the Forbidden Forest. They were headed to that spot first, near the forest, where Greyback took her. Then they could double-back and pass by the lake, where he'd found her after Pettigrew had left her.

"I could teach you the simple moves," she said. "It's mostly just stretching."

He turned his gaze upon her and Rebecca immediately felt small. "I am fine."

"Never mind, then."

She wished she could be so imposing with just a look. But she supposed that would come with time and irritating students.

The rest of their walk was in silence. He held back while she continued forward, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other as she approached the exact spot where she'd been taken. Rebecca knew she would never forget it. She stood in that spot, stood there and looked down at the grass. Obviously, there was no trace of either Greyback's existence or her ever having been on this spot. She looked out into the woods, where he'd dragged her past Hogwarts' countless wards in order to Apparate.

"I've never been more afraid than that moment," she said. "So many variables. So many different endings that could have happened." She glanced over her shoulder at Severus. "And to think… a rat saved me from one of those endings."

"You were very brave that night," Severus replied quietly. "I saw it in your memory."

Rebecca smirked. "The memory I never wanted you or anyone else to see. Now the whole bloody world knows about it."

She looked down at the grass again, as if it held some sort of answers for her. Rebecca toed off her shoes and pulled off one sock at a time, then stuffed them in her shoes. She let her freed toes curl into the grass. Once more, her eyes were pulled toward the forest.

"I'll be right back," she said, then started off in the direction she looked.

She followed the path he'd taken her on. Still there was no sight of any of it having happened. Rebecca moved silently through the area, her feet retracing his very footsteps, or so it felt. Finally, she reached the wards, just where the grass met up with the woods.

The forest was quiet, as if it could sense her. Rebecca looked down at her feet. Her brows furrowed at a patch of grass that had grown over a tiny hill in the ground, nearly looking like a wave upon the ocean. In the pocket the earth created sat a small piece of fabric. Rebecca knelt down and picked it up, that night coming to her as clear as this very moment was to her now.

Just before he'd pulled her across the wards, Rebecca had given one last struggling attempting to get away. The heel of her foot had hit the ground hard, leaving the indent that she looked at now. But she'd also struck Greyback's foot. That's when he'd torn the piece of fabric from her Slytherin tie. That was what she held in her hands now.

Her treasure held between her thumb and forefinger, Rebecca made her way up back the hill, looking at the tiny piece of fabric that seemed so insignificant. When she came up over the top of the hill, she saw Severus watching for her intently. She held out her prize.

Severus squinted at the object she held, coming closer to inspect it. His hand closed over hers and brought it up toward his face. A sliver of fabric from a Slytherin tie.

He let go of her hand and looked to her. If anything, she looked triumphant.

"The sign of my survival," she said, forcing the smile to her face.

Severus shook his head, then reached forward and touched her inner left forearm briefly. "Your scars are quite the testament," he said. "Not to say that the meaning you impart to this simple piece of cloth is any less significant, but you have always shown that you were a survivor, Rebecca."

As usual, the rush she felt when he touched her went through her bloodstream. Her smile became genuine.

"Thank you."

Severus nodded. "Lead the way to our next destination."

Rebecca leaned down and picked up her shoes, slipping the fabric from her old tie into her pocket. The jeans she wore were slightly long upon her, so she knew they would track through the dirt. But at the moment, the act of walking without shoes felt extremely liberating. This whole process felt much the same.

They reached the tree by the lake where Severus had found her that night. He held back once more as she went to examine the area. It was a popular spot for students, so there was likely not going to be anything here. That she didn't care about. She set her shoes down and leaned her back against the tree, sinking to the ground. She looked up at Severus, who watched her pensively.

"I wish that I could say this was the most frightened I'd felt for you throughout your years in the war," he said. "But I'm afraid I grew accustomed to that feeling of fear."

"Fear for another's life?" she asked.

He nodded. "Potter's life weighed greatly on my mind constantly," he said. "And then your own. Then Albus' for a time. Draco's. The students'. My colleagues. Innumerable fears all at once."

"And you always so cool on the exterior," Rebecca said. "I'm still not certain how you did it."

"Accepting the fact that you are merely repenting for former sins and knowing that you are going to die once everything is repaid tends to be very helpful."

"I really took a lot from you when I saved you," Rebecca said, looking to the ground.

"You stole all of my plans from me in that moment," Severus replied. "I was helpless and you were strong. I was not appreciative of how the tables had been so abruptly turned."

He looked at her upon the ground, touching the spot where he'd found her with her fingers and toes, as if she were trying to get in touch with her bleeding, nearly-dead self from that night.

"However, I find myself thankful that you decided to go against my wishes," Severus said, looking up at the tree. How it had grown since his years at Hogwarts. "As you have elucidated upon a number of occasions, I am not always right."

His eyes trailed down the branches, following their lines until they met at the trunk, which he followed down until his eyes met her own again. She was smiling brightly— glowing in the fast-fading light. And he was glad that he'd made her form that expression.

"You're welcome."

Her voice was sweet, as it usually was now. There was very rarely anger in her tone anymore, unless it was directed at a potion ingredient that was not cooperating.

"Have you received what you wished from this excursion?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, nodding as she stood. She brushed her backside off quickly before picking up her shoes once more.

Rebecca approached him, stopping just a foot from him.

"I'm sorry we both had such horrible experiences by this tree," she said. "But maybe this can be a more content memory. One of acceptance."

Severus looked long at her, and Rebecca expected to be reprimanded. But he nodded instead.

"Yes. Perhaps that is what will occur."

He turned and began walking back to the castle. Rebecca followed him, soon matching his pace.

"I know that you gave me the weekend off to visit with my friends," Rebecca said.

"Don't tell me you wish to recant."

"No. Actually… would you like to come with me to the Malfoys' tomorrow? Narcissa has been bothering me to get you to agree all week. I think she and Lucius legitimately miss having you around."

"Or she wishes to continue her scheming."

"Or that. But I'd much rather have you there with me."

"Why?"

"To keep all of the attention off of me," Rebecca said with a shrug.

Severus gave her a harsh look. "That is simply a lie."

"Half-truth. I'm scared. Even with all of the remodeling… I've pushed myself a lot this week as far as dealing with the past. But the Malfoys' home has a lot of poor memories for me, especially with Professor Burbage and Ollivander and even Dobby."

"You are asking much of someone who is simply your Potions Master."

Rebecca sighed. "I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry."

She walked ahead of him, arms crossed over her chest.

The next morning, she crossed the barrier of the lavatory between their quarters, her beige skirt bouncing about her knees. Already she fidgeted with the form-fitting white collared shirt before finally getting it to sit comfortably. Narcissa had picked out these pieces specifically for her, and Rebecca had to show her appreciation for the garments in some way. Rebecca often wondered how Narcissa had convinced her to accept any of the clothing the woman had bought for her, but then she recalled their first shopping excursion and how tired she'd been after just an hour. She'd simply agreed to everything to appease Narcissa and to get out of there faster.

Well, that was certainly where the shirt had come from. Rebecca had made some minor adjustments to the dip of the collar, made it more modest. Only the very top of her scar could be seen instead of nearly the whole top half of the thing.

"I'm off," Rebecca said, pushing the door open enough for her to lean against the doorframe.

Severus glanced at her over his shoulder and nodded. "I have decided to accompany you," he said, turning to face her. "It seems that Narcissa has sent me her own letter, explaining how I've been neglecting her family." He held up the parchment.

He rolled his eyes briefly, also giving him a moment where he would not have to look at her. Such simple clothes, but already his mind was put to work. So terrible, even after all this time, that she could have this affect upon him. But that wasn't what she desired for, and he would not allow it. The proverbial problem of an immovable wall with an unstoppable force. He wasn't quite certain who was which metaphor.

"Oh," Rebecca said, stepping into the room. "Well, you don't have to go if you don't want to. I understand if you have other things to do. I can make your excuses to Narcissa."

"I understand why you asked me to attend this outing with you, Rebecca," Severus said. "And I am willing to both alleviate Narcissa's whining and help you to avoid the constant attention."

"I appreciate that."

"Then let us go."

Severus set the parchment down upon the coffee table before turning toward his door. They were soon out of the castle and headed for the wards, once again in silence. He'd noticed she had become much calmer than she ever had been as a student. Being put in a position of power tended to make one think before speaking, to contemplate everything. And for the past year, that was what she'd had to do. He paused. No, it had been much longer than that. She'd slowly made this transition upon becoming a spy. But now, it seemed, she had perfected the technique.

Soon, they were Apparating to Malfoy Manor. Once there, the gates allowed them to pass, still recognizing their magical signatures. Rebecca had paused a moment in front of them before finally stepping through, recalling every reason for returning to the manor the last year of the war.

She followed him, almost as if she were being pulled along in the wake of his almost normal-looking clothes. Still he wore all black, and his collar was impossibly high upon his neck. But there was no cloak today, though it didn't make him any less of an imposing figure. Rebecca couldn't help but looking over the lines of his body, wondering at how she had ever come to this. How things had gotten like this.

They were at the doorstep now, and it was opening. A house elf stood aside for them to enter.

"The Malfoys and Miss Greengrass await the professors in the sitting room," the little creature said.

"I'm not a professor, but thank you for the courtesy," Rebecca said to the house elf. "However, I'd like it if you called me Rebecca."

The house elf stared at her for a moment before giving a nod of his head, his large ears flapping. "Jiffy does as Miss Rebecca wishes."

The house elf turned to lead the way, and both of them followed. Severus had grown accustomed to the way Rebecca treated all creatures, even house elves. She led by example rather than obnoxious proclaiming. Certainly this is was one of reasons that Albus was drawn to her, this Slytherin who would go out of her way to be kind to anyone she'd just met until they gave her reason to not.

She seemed to be holding her own so far. But just as they were about to enter the sitting room, Rebecca stopped very suddenly in front of him. Severus nearly ran into her, barely able to stop himself on his toes before rocking back onto his heels. He waited just a moment, seeing if she would move on her own like she had at the gate. When it was clear they would get nowhere quickly with this, Severus put his hand on the small of her back and pushed lightly.

That made her move again. The heat from her body remained on his fingertips. But the Malfoys were before them, helping him to push away the thoughts that threatened to take over his mind. He and Lucius shook hands before he did the same with Draco. Narcissa gave him a kiss upon the cheek. The Malfoys each received a brief hug from Rebecca by way of welcome.

"I know introductions aren't necessary here," Draco said, turning and holding out his hand to Astoria, who took it, "but—"

"But you wanted to make it known that things were official," Rebecca said, smirking at Draco. She reached her right hand out to the girl standing beside Draco. "Nice to see you again, Astoria. We'll make sure the Slytherin power games don't get too out of hand today, won't we?"

"I would like that, actually," Astoria said. "And I'm glad to see you again too, Rebecca, despite what my sister may think."

"I think much less often of your sister than I suspect she thinks of me, so it doesn't matter much to me what she thinks, honestly," Rebecca said with a pleasant smile.

"That's reassuring to know," Astoria replied, returning the smile.

Severus had nearly smirked at Rebecca's comment, but held himself in check. Narcissa gestured to the open seats, a single loveseat at this point. Yes, this had been planned, even if it may not look it.

"Please have a seat," Narcissa said. "We'll have tea while the house elves finish up lunch. Then we'll go for the tour of the house and grounds."

Rebecca took the farther side of the loveseat, leaving her closer to Draco and Astoria, and left the open seat beside her for Severus so he might block some of Narcissa's questioning. As soon as they were all seated once more, a female version of Jiffy the house elf appeared in the room, carrying a large tea tray that she barely looked able to lift up. But she set it upon the table and Lucius thanked her. Draco had informed Rebecca that they had been trying with their house elves since Tom's fall. The elves definitely seemed more at ease and didn't seem as taken aback with the politeness as much as they might once have been.

"Tell us, dear, about how your potion is coming," Narcissa said.

"It's been made and is in the testing process now," Rebecca answered after sipping upon her tea.

"How many are testing it?" Lucius asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Eleven, including myself and Severus."

"Would the Ministry have a problem with you testing your own potion upon yourself?" Astoria asked.

"I think not, as my scars are unique to me. I'm unaware of others who bear the same markings from the same dagger."

"Just as well," Severus muttered. "It was difficult enough to heal one person poisoned by that wretched thing."

"Don't you still own the dagger, Becca?" asked Draco.

Rebecca nodded. "Yes, and I haven't had to use it. It's more for show at this point." Her eyes moved to Narcissa. "If you would like, I could return it to you. It is a Black family heirloom, after all."

"I think it would be better if you keep it, dear," Narcissa said. "Unfortunately, others may take our accepting the dagger as some sort of reverting back to the Dark ways."

Rebecca looked away for a moment, out the window, as if the offenders were just outside the gates around the manor. So much was still on edge even if the Malfoys were slowly being accepted back into wizarding society.

"Narcissa, maybe you could tell Rebecca and Professor Snape the changes you've made to this room," Astoria said. "I know that I was fascinated by how little it actually took to make all of these changes." The girl, who had recently turned seventeen, beamed at Narcissa as though she'd been doing it for years. And Narcissa readily took up the task.

It allowed Rebecca a chance to take in her surroundings and to forget that Severus was seated next to her. It was not the closest they had been to one another, but it would certainly be the longest they'd been this close to one another. And though Narcissa continued speaking, Rebecca knew she was constantly aware of how aware of each other they were. Severus had been right. This was all planned ahead.

Finally, Jiffy returned to the room. "Lunch is served," he announced.

Narcissa and Lucius led the way to the new dining hall, directly across the entrance hall from the sitting room. Rebecca couldn't imagine living in a home this large for any extended period of time. Even over the summer here she'd never grown accustomed to it all.

Once more, Narcissa insisted that she and Severus sit next to each other so that Draco and Astoria could do the same. The circular table made it impossible to argue with their hostess.

Lunch was a simple soup, salad, and upscale sandwiches that Rebecca found she enjoyed.

"Have you had any results back from anyone concerning their scars, Rebecca?" Astoria asked.

"No, but I asked all participants to keep everything from me until the end of the month. I could speak upon my own experiences, but there is another subject in the room, so it might skew the results." She smiled at Astoria. "Do you enjoy Potions?"

"A bit," Astoria replied. "Better than most other classes. But I prefer Charms and Defense over them all."

Rebecca nodded.

"Astoria aspires to be a Curse-Breaker," Draco said.

"A difficult task, Miss Greengrass," said Severus, looking to the girl. "But should you put great effort into your N.E.W.T.s, you should fare well."

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Astoria said with a polite nod.

"How have things been at the Ministry, Draco?" Rebecca asked before taking the final bite from her sandwich.

"Well enough," he said. "It's taken a year, but I've finally got the goblins convinced that I'm not after their money." He smirked. "Strange creatures, but pleasant enough to be around if you're a Slytherin. We've dealt with far worse."

Rebecca couldn't stifle her chuckle. "I can't disagree."

"That reminds me, Flint's asked after you," Draco said. "He heard, obviously through various media outlets, that you were back in the country, but wasn't sure where to owl you."

"So you've taken up being pen pals with him, have you?" Rebecca asked with a raised eyebrow.

Draco shrugged. "We write every so often. He taught me Quidditch, after all. Where can I tell him to write you so he'll stop pestering me?"

"Hogwarts," Rebecca said. "I'll get his owls and decide what to do from there."

"Quite the popular one as ever, our Rebecca," Narcissa said with a fond look in her direction.

"And what am I, mother?" Draco asked, barely able to conceal his smile.

"Oh, Draco…"

He smiled and finished his sandwich. Rebecca wondered how many people hadn't seen this side of the Malfoys and would judge them based upon their appearances in polite society. But hadn't that been exactly what they'd all done for so many years? Coupled with their particularly nasty outer shells and hostile ways, they certainly hadn't wanted to be friends. But as far as Rebecca could tell, they were genuinely nice people whose only desire was to not be seen as pushovers, weaklings, or on the losing side. They had strong family ties, but could be persuaded to change for what was the better not just for themselves, but for everyone. Everyone had their faults, and Rebecca was willing to forgive and forget many things for what the Malfoys had done for her.

"Rebecca, knowing from earlier this summer, I know you still play the piano," Lucius said. "How has the one we've given you held up?"

"Very well, thank you. It's currently shoved into the small space of my sitting area in my quarters at Hogwarts."

"Do you play often?"

"Every day," Severus said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "And at all times of the day, I might add."

Rebecca glanced at him, rolling her eyes. "Don't believe a word of it. He likes my piano-playing."

"I tolerate your playing," Severus said, looking to his right to meet her gaze. "There is a difference."

Lucius chuckled. "It seems that there are things that never change, old friend."

"That is very true, Lucius."

"Tell me, what do you think the chances of Rebecca passing her final test and staying in Britain for good?"

"She most certainly has the aptitude for not only passing the test, but ultimately impressing the Ministry official into simply handing her the certificate she so needs within minutes of beginning the examination," Severus said easily, looking directly at Lucius. "Whether or not she remains is entirely up to her choosing. I am not a mind-reader."

"But you'll stay, won't you, Becca," Draco said, glass half-raised to his lips as he looked to her.

And she felt all eyes turn to her. She smiled, nervous.

"That's my plan," she said. "But I'm not handing in my resignation to Minister Smith until I'm certain I've passed my final test."

"You heard Severus," Narcissa said. "You'll do wonderfully, Rebecca. Why not simply write to the Minister now?"

"Perhaps she wishes to keep her options," Severus said, his gaze shifting to Narcissa. "There is no need to push the subject, Cissa. We have back-up plans should our first choice not end up committing."

"Come now, Severus, you don't wish Rebecca to leave any more than any of us at this table," Narcissa said.

There was a silence that fell upon them all. Rebecca looked to the ceiling, truly wishing that the Malfoy matriarch hadn't said something so baldly.

"Whether Rebecca wishes to stay or go has little affect upon my person," Severus said. "What this exercise will be is a testament to my teaching ability, her aptitude for learning, and how she can take that knowledge and apply it on her own. I am certain she will not disappoint as far as the test is concerned."

The woman looked as though she was going to open her mouth once more, but Rebecca spoke first.

"Narcissa, _please_," she said, sending a look across the table. The older witch shut her mouth.

Then she realized how rude she was being, how poorly she was treating a woman who was simply trying to help. She quickly lightened her expression and said in a more kindly manner, "Why don't you show us the changes you've made to the manor? I'm sure it's beautiful."

Immediately, Narcissa was smiling once more. She came around the table to take Rebecca by the arm and begin leading her and their little group about.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent walking Malfoy Manor, Narcissa and Lucius explaining all of the different ways they'd altered rooms and gotten rid of the majority of their old furnishings. Severus was never far from her, but he was also not too close. Draco and Astoria seemed content to bring up the rear.

The grounds were a more pleasant way for Rebecca to relieve her tension from having been cooped up in the house for just over two hours. She had been anxious, but with all of them there felt little need to acknowledge it. Always in the back of her mind. Would it always be this way?

But in the rose gardens, surrounded by the subtle scent of the flowers, Rebecca felt more at ease. She smiled fondly as they rounded a corner, coming upon a stone bench.

"That's where Dobby first came back to me with news of Harry, Ron, and Hermione," she said, walking toward it. She turned around and sat upon it.

"Potter told us Dobby didn't survive Bella's knife," Draco said.

"He didn't. Harry buried him outside of Bill and Fleur's home by the sea. It's a nice area."

The Malfoys looked uncomfortable with the talk. Astoria seemed genuinely interested in the topic. Severus chose to look about them, trying not to take an interest in the conversation.

"I think he would like that you're trying to make a difference, to change," Rebecca said, looking between the Malfoys. "I know that it's difficult. Perspectives are hard to overcome. I'm proud of what you've done."

She gave a faint smile. Narcissa had the early signs of tears coming to her eyes.

"Oh, Rebecca, we'd be in ruins if it wasn't for you," she said quietly.

"The moment you three decided of your own free will to help Harry, Ron, Hermione, Tonks, and Remus, was the moment you brought yourselves out of ruins," Rebecca said.

Narcissa stepped forward. Rebecca stood to intercept the woman's hug, allowing her to wrap her up tightly. Over her shoulder, Rebecca could see the others watching them. Severus stayed back, the faintest of smiles upon his face. From what, Rebecca couldn't tell, but she supposed it didn't matter. It was the first smile she'd seen on him in more than a year.

Soon, she and Severus were taking their leave of the Malfoys. Promises were made to Astoria that favoritism would not be shown.

"Even if I am your Head of House by then," Rebecca added.

"Certainly, professor."

"But let's not get ahead of ourselves," Rebecca said with a smile, shaking Astoria's hand. She turned to Draco and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Keep her, or you're a dolt."

By the time they had returned to Hogwarts, there was just under two hours left before dinner. They made their way back toward the castle.

"Thank you for coming with me today," she said.

"It will keep Narcissa at bay for some time."

"Barely. She's a Slytherin and a mother. You can't expect her to always lie dormant."

"I suppose not."

"Do you really think I won't stay in England?" Rebecca asked, turning to look at him, no longer concerned with their trek back to the castle.

Severus stopped when she did, looking between the castle and then finally letting his eyes settle upon her.

"No more than you believe that you are the sole reason the Malfoys have come into their new personas," he said. "That sentence, despite its sentimentality, that you uttered in the rose garden was perhaps the one thing they needed to hear."

"Are you giving me a compliment?"

"I tell you that the Ministry should hand you a certificate of completion for your Mastery and all you deign to comment on is my remark that your reading of a social situation was appropriate?"

"Ultimately, my love for my friends and their happiness is more important to me than a Mastery."

"And for that I have always faulted you."

"Perhaps because they were emotions you'd had yet to grasp completely?"

"Your reading of this social situation, to the contrary, is abysmal," Severus said dryly, turning and continuing their hike up to the castle.

Rebecca snorted as he walked away before turning to follow him once more.

"I should have time for some yoga before dinner," she said as she drew even with him once more.

"Do tell me that is _not_ your attempt to subtlety invite me along so you might teach me something of it."

"Merely a remark of how I was going to pass my time."

"I will have you know that my knee has progressed more than adequately on its own time," he said, keeping his eyes trained ahead.

"Does your left side bother you often?"

"Much like your so-called trick knee, it very rarely has a pattern," Severus said. "But it bothers me very little."

"Well, my previous offer still stands."

"And it is once again noted, but not required."

Rebecca shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Severus found himself avoiding the lavatory, as she mentioned she would be performing her routine there until dinner required her to get ready. He heard the shower running, and could even see small tendrils of steam coming under the door. After a while, the shower stopped running, and he heard nothing after that. It was easier to read his book in the silence that followed, though his mind wondered at the muggle method for stretching. Certainly that hadn't been where she'd developed her new muscle mass. It would help her image with the students if nothing else, not that she necessarily needed to be worried in that regard. They would take to her much better than any students had taken to him.

That had been how he'd wanted it. There was the occasional student of his House who would catch his eye over the rest because of their prowess in Potions or some other subject. But they were few and far between. Even still, he tried to keep as many as he could out of trouble. She would be entering Slytherin House in a much different time. Not when it needed saving from itself, but when it needed to be rebuilt as a legitimate Hogwarts House, not be seen as the House of Evil.

She was, perhaps, the best of their applicants when it came to leading Slytherin House. The others had not been Slytherins. The task would fall to him, which would force him to relinquish his hold as Deputy Headmaster. Flitwick did not want the title to pass to him, seeing as he was fit for retirement within the next decade. It would next be offered to Sprout, who would also be seeking retirement within the next few years. The thought was concerning to him. Rebecca had many reasons to stay, and seemed determined to do so. But there was always the possibility that she would leave, for fear or for cowardice, or even because he would push her away.

He didn't realize how much time had passed until he heard the shower running again. A few minutes later, she emerged wearing more comfortable clothes for a night in the castle: jeans and a large T-shirt. Her cheeks were an engaging shade of pinkish-red. He may have stared too intently for too long, as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you ready for dinner?"

He nodded, setting his book down. They were on their way to the Great Hall, where the others commented on Rebecca's appearance. Gladly, she explained the yoga practice of performing certain moves in an extremely hot room.

"I suggested to Severus that it may help the issues he's experiencing with his left side," Rebecca said, glancing his directly before looking to Poppy. "But he claims that he's well."

"Severus, perhaps muggle treatments wouldn't be a bad idea to at least try," said Poppy. "And you wouldn't find a better instructor than Miss Felan."

Severus' eyes moved to glare at Rebecca, who sat beside him, eating her dinner as though she couldn't see him. But he saw her smirk. Finally, he turned to face Poppy.

"As I have told Rebecca, I am perfectly capable of handling my own physical ailments."

"Actually, you didn't say anything of ailments," Rebecca said. "You said you were fine."

Slowly, he turned to face her. "That I also am. Now you will stop your pestering before I revoke your second day off and have you reciting potions until you're too hoarse to irritate me further."

Rebecca turned back to her plate, but she was smiling.

"How was your trip to the Malfoys', Rebecca?" Minerva asked.

"A bit nerve-wracking, but good nonetheless," she replied. "Severus accepted Narcissa's invitation as well lest he incur her further annoying habits."

"Narcissa Malfoy has a certain way of getting under one's skin that one might find dreadful if one can bear to suffer it for days upon end."

Minerva smirked. "How have their remodels gone?"

"The place barely looks the same. Beautiful as usual. And Astoria has been informed she'll receive no preferential treatment from either of us."

"As we were all so concerned about Severus giving preferential treatment," Minerva said with a smile.

"I got preferential treatment," Rebecca said.

"That was a different set of circumstances, Rebecca," Minerva said quietly.

"No, I mean before that. He gave me more assignments so I wouldn't be bored. Made my essay requirements longer or more difficult. Graded me more harshly."

"Rebecca," Severus said.

She turned to him. "It's the textbook definition of preferential. You're not some sort of heartless monster, you know."

"That wasn't what I was implying, Rebecca."

"Of course you weren't, Headmistress. I simply wanted to make it clear that not everyone is as you may think they are."

It was Hagrid that first broke the silence.

"Well, I fer one didn't think I'd be sayin' this, but I'm glad the Malfoys are doing so well! They really 'ave turned around their way a thinkin'. 'Arry says he'd consider them friends. You'd a never thought that while you lot were at school!"

Rebecca grinned at Hagrid. "You're absolutely right, Hagrid. The Malfoys are the perfect testament to the fact that people aren't always what they seem, that people can change for the better, that there might be good even in the least likely places."

"Exactly!" Hagrid said.

Rebecca chuckled. "Excuse me, but I'm finished and have a few letters to write before it gets too late."

She made her way back to the dungeons and was just about to go into her sitting area when a hand upon her shoulder turned her around. Immediately, her hand gripped the offending wrist tightly and twisted. But a second hand gripped her own wrist tightly and pushed her off. Severus was sneering at her.

"Do you believe I am incompetent and in need of someone to speak on my behalf, Miss Felan?"

"Stop it, Severus."

"I am no longer on trial. And you no longer have any obligation to explain or expound upon my actions to anyone."

"I don't feel obligated," Rebecca said. "And I said stop it." She put her hand upon his chest and pushed him back.

He went barely an inch with her push, and he remained where he was, glaring at her. Finally, he let his shoulder relax. His nostrils were no longer flaring. He took a step back.

"Your first reaction was not to attempt to hex me," he said. "At least I can perhaps ease my mind of the mishap that should occur should a student approach you similarly."

"Do you even want me to keep going with this apprenticeship?" Rebecca asked, brows furrowed. "Because you're sure as hell not acting like it."

"You should be prepared for what may happen during a normal school day," Severus said. "Upon your return Monday morning, we must assess your willingness to control these reactions to physical stimuli."

"Look, I'm sorry if I offended you, but what she was suggesting is that you—"

"I know _exactly_ what she was suggesting, Miss Felan, and it is the least contemptuous remark that I've borne in my life."

"You shouldn't have to bear them. People shouldn't be saying those things about you in the first place, most especially Minerva."

"I am not your friend Granger or Weasley. I do not need _the great _Rebecca Felan to stand up for me because my own voice is too pathetic and cowardly to be heard," Severus said, pressing closer to her. "I do not care what they wish to think of me. It matters not. I do not need a dunderhead to personally refute each thing said of me."

Rebecca pressed her back against the door of her quarters for lack of anywhere else to go. She waited for him to back away, to stop speaking, to even just give her a moment to get her bearings. But he didn't allow her that. At least he was no longer touching her. All of the anxiety she'd been feeling at the Malfoys' home coupled with his harsh words were enough to make her feel all of her progress had been for naught.

Severus glared down at her even when all he wanted to do was draw her into his embrace and bury his nose and fingers in her hair. That desire had been plaguing him throughout the day, but had grown almost unbearable as she refused to look at him. She was withdrawing into herself once more, attempting to fight the memories that constantly had her on edge.

"Perhaps it is best that you remove yourself from your chambers this evening and stay with Molly and Arthur," Severus found himself saying.

"Fine."

She turned from him, even as close as he was to her, and muttered her password to the door, which allowed her entrance into her sitting room. And she shut the door in his face.

Severus retreated to his study. An hour passed, and he didn't hear or see any part of her. It was about eight when he finally decided she was most assuredly gone.

He sat down and wrote a letter, the proper wording coming to him immediately. At once, he was both calm and enraged, but somehow not at Rebecca. He couldn't even be properly mad at her, and that made him write even faster, his raven-feather quill going between ink well and parchment faster than he thought possible. Finally, he was finished. As he folded the parchment and put the seal to it, he called aloud.

"Winky."

The house elf popped beside his desk. "What can Winky be doing for Professor Snape?"

He handed her the parchment. "Take this to Minister Shacklebolt. This is to go into no other's hand except for his. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor Snape. Winky understands," the house elf said, reaching for the parchment so nervously that she shook. "Can Winky be doing anything else for Professor Snape?"

"Wait for a reply. I must have it tonight. Even if you must wake me, return the reply tonight."

"Yes, Professor Snape."

"That will be all, Winky," he said, letting his voice soften just a touch toward the elf, especially because of her state. She was always nervous.

The house elf nodded before popping back out of the room again. Severus leaned back in his chair and sighed. He thought what to do with himself until Winky's return, then decided to take the opportunity presented to him and enjoy a long bath, preferably in scalding hot water.

The lavatory was full of steam by the time the huge tub was full. Only then did Severus shrug out of his remaining clothes, setting them on the counter neatly before slipping into the water. He felt warmth run through his body, even managing to seep into the scars upon his neck, which never seemed warm to him. Or perhaps it was his imagination. It was difficult to tell.

In any case, he allowed himself to rest against the tub, letting the water soak him thoroughly. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, trying to clear his mind of all thoughts. Except he found he couldn't. She still flew about like some annoying gnat. A nuisance as always.

The look upon her face when she departed had been so many emotions. Fear, loathing, dejection… Her eyes didn't threaten to spill over with tears. Her shoulders she held straight. But it had been that last second, just before turning, that told him all he needed to know. Unabashed loss. It was the same look that she'd given him just before turning away from him after his trial. Would she return this time, or would it take her another year?

Truly, she had meant well. And it was one of the first times in many years another had stood up for him. Not out of some sort of sense of obligation, such as his trial. All of them felt they owed him something and that was why they took the stand. Even Rebecca Felan, with her silly notions of love. She would have felt obliged to help him, having known the truth. But this was as she'd said. She had no reason to want to stand up for him other than because she simply wanted to.

He smirked as he recalled the look upon Minerva's face. The very thought of him showing preference to a student at that level seemed absurd. Certainly, he was known to show partialness to Slytherins and give them more points, but all professors were guilty of that at one time or another—House loyalty and all of that nonsense. To her, Severus was exempt from these things, as they generally required strong emotions. Things that he never showed for about ninety-nine percent of the time.

He recalled the empty feeling he got when Minerva insulted him. An almost numb sensation, as when a body part falls asleep. He'd grown so accustomed to it that he hardly noticed it. But he'd been so shocked out of it when Rebecca took a stand against the Headmistress that he couldn't help but remember it with perfect clarity now. And how he always retreated into himself instead of attempting to defend himself. But defending wouldn't do him much good. And that would be something that she had to learn, even if it meant pushing her farther away.

But how Minerva's expression had made Rebecca smirk. Even if the others hadn't seen it, Severus certainly had. And the memory of her smirk led him to think of her smiles that she'd given to him. The edges of his mouth slowly began to curl upward.

Severus rolled his eyes and held his breath, slipping slowly into the water. He remained in the heat until his lungs screamed for air and the temperature became unbearable. His head tipped backward and he surfaced, hair slicked back against his head. The cool air of the lavatory filled his lungs, and he felt rejuvenated.

His Patronus. The letter to Kingsley. How he felt when she did something so simple as smile. Snooping into her personal letters. Jealousy. Still wanting to touch her, even as much as he wanted to push her away for what he believed to be her own good.

"Gods," he said. His voice reverberated off the tile in the room. "I do care."

Affection. He cared for her.

Severus let his head fall against the back of the tub with little effort to keep the action from hurting. He winced at the sudden impact, but it had the desired effect. At least for a moment, in any case. He stopped thinking. And even for that second, it was enough for him.

Once more, Severus found himself in a difficult predicament. Though she was most definitely of age, he was her Potions Master once more, and she his apprentice. Though it was not unheard of for affections to grow out of these situations, they were highly frowned upon. Preference could not be shown, especially anything romantically, or her career would be threatened. Moreover, her entire reputation would be threatened should he pursue her. Which he didn't want to do to begin with. She deserved much more than what he could offer her. He had already held her back from much— he and all of her masters during the war. And that was why Severus planned to leave Hogwarts as soon as a suitable Defense professor could be found to replace him.

Even if she didn't fancy herself as wanting to try to convince him of the sincerity of her affection, he would always be holding her back simply by being in her vicinity. And that thought alone troubled him, that he could have this great of an effect upon her.

He would have to be harsh with her, just as he had been with his other apprentices, all of the ones who had previously failed. To prove this to her, she would have to perform her bathing ritual. He pinched the bridge of his nose. This would be a challenge in many respects for the both of them. But if she could get through it, perhaps she could see beyond her own self-doubts and fears. Perhaps it could be the first step in her moving onward, away from him, and onto someone more suitable. And then he would be free of his guilt. He would no longer have to think of her and try to consider her feelings in matters. Then all of this could stop, and he could return to his former state: secluded. As he liked it.

Already he felt emptiness, just as empty as the quarters felt without her. He sighed, standing and pulling the plug from the drain. The pipe gurgled, then the water slowly fled the tub as Severus began to dry himself off, finally making his way back to his quarters to sleep for the evening.

Rebecca returned the next evening after dinner, entering his quarters to tell him of her return.

"I'm going to bed early tonight," she said. "I don't feel much up to brewing anyway."

"Be prepared to begin the next part of your training tomorrow," he said, not bothering to look up from whatever text he was reading.

Rebecca was about to close the lavatory door between them until he spoke the vague statement. She looked back to him.

"And that will be?"

"Something you will find out tomorrow morning."

"Very specific. How can I prepare if I don't know what it is?"

Finally, Severus set the book upon his lap and stared back at her. "A good Potions Master or Mistress is always prepared for anything."

Then he lifted the book once more, shutting her out of his line of sight once more. Rebecca looked at him for a moment more before closing the door behind her and heading to bed. Surprises had never been a particular love of hers. And from how angry she'd left him on Saturday night to how detached he currently seemed, she could tell she wasn't going to enjoy this one either.

* * *

_The Surprise, July 23, 1999_

The next morning Rebecca awoke to a knock at her door. She sat up quickly in bed, her legs moving to swing over the side as she looked at the door. Her feet brought her to it, and she opened it about two inches and peered through the crack at Severus, who appeared to be waiting impatiently.

"You're up early," Rebecca said, opening the door the rest of the way. She leaned against the frame. Though the dungeons didn't offer any natural lighting, her internal clock could sense it was still dark outside, though perhaps just barely.

"The next phase of your training begins now," he said darkly. "Gather your bathing supplies and meet me in the lavatory."

Rebecca's face fell from its generally neutral expression into one of terror. But he had already turned around. Clearly, there was no room for discussion. Rebecca shut the door as she turned to face her room once more, fingers already trailing through her hair. She entered the closet and took up her bag of necessary bathing items. As her hand reached for it, she saw it was shaking.

She attempted to stop the shaking at least as she walked slowly back to the door. The walk to the lavatory felt much longer than any she'd taken before, and it was completely ridiculous to be feeling this way. Just before entering the lavatory, Rebecca took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

He stood just outside the now familiar, unseen line that marked where the water could not cross outside of the shower. His face its usual mask. She made certain to leave the door open to her quarters. A quick way to escape, if it was necessary.

Severus wore his usual attire, but his sleeves were rolled up nearly to his elbows. Her mind raced. Did he plan on reaching into the shower with her? She felt her heart thumping against her chest, and she clutched her bag of toiletries to her chest.

"You will perform the ritual as though you were doing so for the final examination," Severus said, looking away from her and to the shower. But soon his eyes had reached hers again. "Begin whenever you are prepared."

Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat. "Could you at least turn around until I'm in the shower?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, then gave a quiet sigh before turning away from her. Rebecca made certain he wasn't going to turn around before gathering the items she wished to bring into the shower with her.

_At least I already shaved yesterday_, she thought as she took everything out of her bag except her razor and shaving gel. She'd always preferred the muggle method— less likely for a major accident that way.

She kept her eye on his back as she began to get undressed. This was not at all what she'd expected her first time undressing in front of a man would be like. It was probably one of the more bizarre events in her life, but then again nothing in her life had been absolutely normal since she'd discovered she was a witch. This somewhat normal line of thinking helped to keep her mostly calm while she divested herself of clothing. Once that was done, she gathered her items to her chest once more.

Rebecca took in another breath and gave his back one last look. _Why did I use this against him?_ she thought, thinking back to the night he'd forced her out of the lab. He was certainly going to be less than kind now.

She stood just before the shower, looking between it and him a number of times. The longer she waited, the higher her anxiety rose. The open door wasn't going to help her now. There was no more protection. She didn't have her wand or even her clothes. At one time, she believed this man would never harm her. But his temper was so difficult to determine at any given time that at this point she wasn't sure.

Why did she ever have feelings for him? Even now, underneath all of her anxiety, was a different kind of nervousness. Thinking upon how she would appear to him, wondering how he would be responding to her and what he saw.

Rebecca shook her head. "I can't do this," she said, quickly reaching for the nearest towel should he think to turn around before she could get her clothing back on.

She managed to get the towel mostly unfurled and in front of her before he slowly turned back to her. Rebecca froze with her back against the wall.

"You _must_ do this to pass your final examination," Severus said, his eyes steadfastly holding her gaze. "It is not an easy task, but it something you must do. Will you let this madman control you for the rest of your life?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, recalling the affirmative response he'd received from Kingsley on Sunday morning. The date and time wouldn't be released until the week before, giving him plenty of time to explain his actions and to continue training Rebecca for her new position at the school.

"He _doesn't_ control my life," Rebecca mumbled, looking away from him and clutching the towel with her one free hand more closely to her.

"That is not how it appears."

She saw his eyes flick over her for a second. Just a second. Then he was staring intently into her eyes once more.

"Do you believe I will harm you?" he asked.

"I don't know what I think about you anymore."

"The truth, at least, when you are frightened," Severus said with a roll of his eyes. He didn't move after that, simply looked at her. "Do you remember the trust you instilled in me last year, when I flung the both of us from a window near Ravenclaw Tower?"

"Yes."

"Were you frightened?"

"No."

"_Why_?" he asked.

"Because I knew that you would do what you needed in order to have us both survive that jump."

"What do you know now, Rebecca?"

"You're making me do something that needs to be done."

"Have I ever purposefully put you in harm's way?"

"According to my memories, never."

Severus paused, noting her choice of words was spot-on even under the clear stress she was under at the moment.

"I will not touch you. You have my promise."

Rebecca bit the insides of her cheeks. "I'll try."

He didn't need prompting. Severus turned around, waiting once more for the sound of the shower running.

Rebecca didn't move at first. But he was so resolute in his decision and his words. The logic he'd attempted to present to her was supposed to calm her. And it did somewhat, even under the circumstances. Her want to impress was slowly overriding her sense of danger as she tried to recall all of the times he'd saved her or was kind versus the times he was angry and unkind. Finally, she dropped the towel and went quickly to the shower, stepping past the boundaries without another thought. If she thought anymore, she would simply run from the room.

The shelving appeared upon the walls, and she set her items with shaky hands upon them. She closed her eyes, the sound of the water rushing past her ears drowning out everything else in the lavatory. Perhaps she could simply pretend he wasn't there.

_Focus_.

Shakily, she raised her hands and began rinsing herself off, keeping her eyes closed.

Her back was to him, so Severus permitted his lips to purse and his hands to clench tighter around his forearms. This had been the stupidest idea he'd ever had. All staring at her wonderfully naked form would be to frustrate him and scare the ever-living shit out of her.

But at that moment, none of that seemed to matter. His thought process for this whole decision had gone out the window. Her skin was smooth for the most part, the Mark at the base of her spine and other, much smaller, scars clear against even her pale skin. The water cascaded down her length, and Severus watched it all: the way it flowed over her shoulders, down her back, over her arse, and down her legs to her feet.

He snapped his eyes up, watching her hands shake as she rinsed her body off. So far, she was following protocol. Eventually, she would have to turn around. Severus steeled himself for this inevitability.

Rebecca took up the shampoo, taking in another deep breath as she squeezed a dollop into her hand. She set the bottle back onto the shelf, rubbed the substance between her hands, then finally set to working it through her hair. She would have to stand here for a minute under his gaze. And she was too terrified to turn around to see the look upon his face, no matter if it was a mask, smugness, or something else altogether. Finally the product was spread throughout her hair. She rinsed her hands off and waited, silently counting.

She faced the wall, her body rigid with tension. Counting in his head helped Severus to focus on something other than her body, which was helpful. She would make it through this, but for how long? This was truly pushing her limits. Perhaps his own as well.

It had been a minute. Biting her lower lip, Rebecca turned around, her eyes firmly shut as she began to wash the shampoo from her hair, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to see him at all while she performed a task that suddenly seemed so intimate. Her throat was exposed, all of her front bared to him. She nearly tore from the shower right then and there.

Rebecca turned around almost too quickly for him to notice. Severus blinked in surprise. Her hands worked through her hair once more, quickly but efficiently. He couldn't help but notice the way her chest rose and fell, as if she were on the verge of having a panic attack. But he couldn't put a stop to this. She had to push through the fear, to learn to harness it for her own good as she'd learned to do with her anger.

Though concerned, he couldn't stop his eyes from trailing downward. If he were any other man, he may have made a noise or something else as equally irrational. More scars upon the front of her body. More Marks. The one on her thigh looked curiously less noticeable than the one upon her back and even the one upon her sternum, nestled between her breasts. He tried very hard not to linger upon that view or the apex of her thighs. He was surprised to discover that she kept the hair, which indeed matched that on the top of her head, neat and trimmed.

She turned around again, performing the same actions with the conditioner that she had for the shampoo. It was another minute before she turned around, her hands just as shaky as they had been before. But she was not worse. She was not fleeing, not trying to run. But she kept her eyes closed, refused to look at him. Even when she was turned around, Severus noticed she stared straight ahead. Curious.

Finally, she grabbed for her loofah, pushing it under the stream of water as she reached for her body wash. The focus of this menial task slowed her breathing momentarily even as she squeezed a bit of the body wash onto the loofah. She replaced the body wash upon the shelf and began washing herself, starting from her neck and working her way down slowly.

She would have to bend down to reach her legs, her feet. Never before had she felt so self-conscious or aware of her every action. But she had completed each step of the process perfectly thus far. She knew that, was already feeling better because of it. Still she stared forward, not wanting or needing to look at her body to wash it. She knew every contour of her body by touch. And she never enjoyed looking at herself longer than she had to.

Her loofah was rinsed out before she rinsed herself off, turning about slowly and needing to keep her eyes open because of the movement. When she was facing him, she saw that he had not moved a muscle during the whole time she'd been in the shower. His face was unreadable, though his eyes were not. Quickly, she looked away from him, embarrassed and still uncertain of everything.

She was done. Finally. She gathered her items.

"Stop."

The water ceased, and Rebecca was able to step out of the shower and put her items quickly into her bag before taking up a clean towel from the shelf—she couldn't use the one discarded on the floor now that she'd touched it before she'd cleaned herself and since it had lay upon the floor. She wrapped herself in the new towel for the feeling of safety. Her chest rose and fell quickly, but not nearly as fast as her heart beat.

"You performed the task perfectly," he said quietly.

His voice was nearly a growl, and it was all Rebecca could do not to shiver at the sound. She managed to nod her head.

"Get dressed. We will go to the forest today. The weather has been ideal for the mushrooms we are running low on."

Rebecca nodded again, still facing the wall and not daring to turn around and look at him. Finally, she heard the lavatory door on the opposing side shut. Rebecca let her shoulders fall and her forehead rest against the cold stone of the castle wall. She took several steadying breaths in and out before feeling confident enough to gather her things and retreat to her own room to dress once more.

She had survived the ordeal, which had been much less awful than she'd originally imagined it. And his expression had been completely neutral when she did see him, though that wasn't a testament to the faces he could have been making with her back turned. What had he been thinking, springing this upon her?

Her mind raced with endless possibilities as she dried herself and put on clothes appropriate for a jaunt in the forest. Pants, a t-shirt, hiking boots, and her dragonhide gloves shoved into a pocket made up her uniform for the day. Hastily, she pulled her hair up into a bun. No sense getting that foul-smelling stuff in her hair when she didn't have to.

She stopped just before her door and waited, thinking through how she was going to act. Was there even an appropriate way to act? Donned in clothing once more made her feel more secure, but she realized things could definitely not be the same between them after what had occurred in the lavatory, even if it was part of the training regimen.

"If I could do that, I can do anything," she said. "Right, then."

She pushed open the door and strode across the space separating them. When she entered his quarters, she found him still dressed the way he had been in the lavatory, though he too had picked up his dragonhide gloves. He looked up when she opened the door.

"A question," he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Okay."

She probably sounded somewhat dumbstruck, but what else was she supposed to say in response to that?

"I noticed that you did not look at yourself while you washed," Severus said. "Is there a particular reason for this?"

"I don't like to look at myself. That's all."

"A suggestion for when you take the examination."

She raised her head just enough that a strand of hair disengaged from the rest and fell across her face. He could see both of her brilliant green eyes considering him, waiting for him to continue.

"Though the Ministry official is supposed to be discreet, every aspect of your examination will be under scrutiny," he said. "I suggest looking while you wash to keep up the appearances of normalcy. You should also know you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I never said I was ashamed," Rebecca said, though she could feel her jaw unconsciously clenching.

"No. However, there are some things that do not need to be spoken."

Rebecca looked away from him, hooking her thumbs into her unoccupied belt loops.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yes. Follow me."

The walk out to the forest was silent between the two of them. Rebecca felt more discomfort than there had been between them before, even when she'd first arrived at the castle. She swung the huge basket he'd given to her just before they'd left the dungeons to alleviate her tension. But she didn't attempt to break the quiet between the two of them. She would leave that to him. She had certainly tried enough with him. And he was lucky that she hadn't yet had a breakdown about what she'd been asked to do.

His commentary had been fairly unusual for him. Then again, everything about today was turning out to be very strange in general. Hopefully picking mushrooms would be a good time waster and enough of a task to keep her thoughts occupied.

They were finally deep enough in the forest that it was difficult to see the sun, even with as early and bright out as it was.

"Here," Severus said, turning from the path suddenly and veering toward a large tree, lying upon its side on the forest floor. "This is where you will collect them."

Certainly enough, the mushrooms were all there. Dozens of them, different types as well. Rebecca set the basket on the ground and began to put on her gloves. She was going to use the tree to help lower herself to the ground when she saw Severus beginning to lower himself, though his difficulties appeared more prevalent than he would usually let show. Rebecca took a step toward him.

"You're going about it the wrong way," she said, reaching for his arm and pulling him back up. "If you put that much strain on it when you're going down, you'll hurt yourself more."

The full force of his gaze was upon her within a half-second, and Rebecca removed her hand from her arm.

"Look, my knee was injured for a while," she said. "I know what I'm talking about."

Severus rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"This is what worked for me," Rebecca said, leaning forward to hold onto the tree trunk. "Support your weight and lift the leg with the injured knee up slightly off the ground." As she spoke, she did as she instructed. He watched her, though he seemed disinterested. "Your better leg will automatically begin to bend, so you're able to sort of kneel already just on the one leg. But you can set your worse leg down as you're about to settle on the ground and then just immediately go into a sitting position."

And she sat on the ground at his feet, looking back up at him. "You're less likely to make things worse for yourself this way, trust me."

"I will do things the way I have always done them," Severus said quietly. "That is what has worked for me."

So he lowered himself slowly as he'd been doing before, coming to settle beside Rebecca after a few moments. She could see the strain in his neck, though his face didn't give away the pain he might be causing himself. She was quiet, already gathering the mushrooms. Once he was sitting upon the ground, he also began picking the mushrooms on his side of the trunk.

More silence filled the forest, the occasional branch falling, bird chirping, or other various noises happening about them. It was peaceful, but still tense. Finally, she spoke.

"Why did you feel the need to give that advice?"

"I do not think it fair that the Ministry will spread rumours about you using something that is supposed to be private."

"Did it happen to you?" she asked, glancing his way.

He was in mid-pickup of a mushroom when his movements stopped. "Yes, unfortunately." He completed the move of the mushroom from the ground to the basket.

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I thought I had rid you of the annoying habit of apologizing for problems that were not your fault."

"It's an expression of sympathy or empathy," Rebecca said. "In this case, it's empathy."

Severus looked to his left at her, but her eyes were upon the ground, digging for the fungus. He looked back to the ground in front of him.

"Public humiliation does not bother me so much anymore," Rebecca said, shrugging. "But I still appreciate the advice."

"Will you take it, then?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"There is truly no reason you should be so ashamed to look at yourself."

"I've already told you that it isn't shame," Rebecca said, hands unmoving upon the ground when she turned to him this time.

"Then name the emotion."

"It doesn't have a name. It's the want to forget."

"Shame," Severus said firmly.

Rebecca shook her head, reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. A tiny smear of dirt was left on the top of her ear and somewhat in her hair.

"Whatever you say, Severus," she said with a sigh.

"I recall the days when you were much more verbal."

"I'm not feeling very argumentative at the moment."

He watched her, her fingers nimbly picking out the mushrooms and placing them in the basket in quick movements. Her face was relaxed, though her shoulders and back were straight as boards.

"It was not my intention to bring back foul memories," he said.

"Then what was your intention?" Rebecca asked, looking at him. Their eyes locked. "You told me that it wouldn't be for a few weeks. The least you could've done was given me time to prepare."

"You must realise that not everyone will give you special dispensation simply because you are a celebrity."

"I'm not asking it of everyone. I asked it of _you_."

"You should especially not ask it of me as your Potions Master."

"As a colleague? A friend? A former student? Maybe as an equal?" Rebecca said.

Severus' lips grew thin as he continued to focus on his task and attempt to shut out her words.

"You never answered my original question," she said.

"Once more, that is not a question a Master should answer. An apprentice should learn to keep her questions to herself."

"An apprentice was under the impression that her questions were to be encouraged."

"Not to question the teaching process of the Master to his apprentice. Those are inappropriate."

Rebecca furrowed her brows, feeling the frustration building within her. Then, she shook her head, quietly chuckling.

"Have you finally gone mad?" he asked, his voice full of his famous sarcasm.

"You've made me argumentative."

"And you find that humourous?"

"No, but this is."

Her gloves dirtied, she wiped her pointer finger upon his trousers quickly. It left a streak across his knee. Smiling, Rebecca turned back to her work.

Severus peered down at the smear upon his trousers before looking slowly back up at her. "I should have you cleaning out the cauldrons with a toothbrush for that."

"So it would teach me a lesson?" Rebecca asked, still smirking as she glanced his direction. "Unfortunately, that prospect doesn't frighten me."

"And why not?"

"Because you won't set me to it."

"You truly believe so."

Rebecca nodded. "You're more likely to use my fears against me as a form of punishment and some misguided attempt to help me get over them more quickly."

Severus' brows furrowed. "Is that what you believe me to have done?"

"Somewhat. And you also threatened to do so if that was what it was going to take to get me to stay. You did say that, and I rarely forget things. You only have yourself to thank for that particular trait."

Severus thought on this for a while when he realised that she was turning around. He watched curiously as she spun about, her back now facing the tree trunk. She leaned against it, her arms helping to prop herself up as her backside scooted up the trunk. At an advantageous angle, she stood with ease.

"There aren't any more on this side," she said. "And I see you're almost finished."

"We will take them back and clean them so they are as fresh as possible when we place them into storage," Severus said.

Rebecca watched him try to stand, putting his good foot under him and leaning heavily upon it so that he could try to bring himself to his full height. She waited, leaning down to grab the basket so she wouldn't be tempted to watch him struggle. After a while, it was clear he wasn't going anywhere. But he wasn't yet ready to admit it and continued to try it his way. And still she waited patiently.

When it became evident that things were going to simply remain the same, she moved to offer him her hand, setting the basket with the mushrooms upon the ground. She held her proffered appendage just at his chest level, so it wouldn't be overly intrusive, but so he also couldn't miss it.

"Put your weight on your better leg and I'll lift you as you push."

"That would be physically impossible for you, I believe."

"Try me," Rebecca said, giving him an even look.

Severus looked up at her, a dubious expression upon his face. Finally, his hand slowly lifted and closed over her own. Rebecca's hand clasped his as she placed her free hand on top of both of theirs and braced herself in the ground. She felt him shift his weight.

"Ready?" she asked. He nodded. "Push."

He did just as she pulled up with both of her arms, leaning back slightly as she did so. Severus was surprised to feel himself rise from the strength of her pull. Finally, he was on his feet. Rebecca shuffled backward as soon as he was up on his own, and his hand tightened upon hers when it appeared she would topple from over-correcting herself. He ended up pulling her too close, and she let go of his hand to catch herself, both palms upward on his chest for a split second. Immediately, she pushed away from him even as she felt her face heat up and the shock of being so close to him begin to affect her.

Her hands upon his chest sent a rush through him, and he nearly caught her by the wrists and pulled her back against him. But he stopped himself just in time. Instead, he looked down at her blushing face.

"Perhaps I shall attempt your means of achieving your feet the next time," he said. "Though for now I cannot suppress my surprise at your strength."

Rebecca took off her gloves and folded them in half, putting them in her back pocket. Then she reached down to pick up the basket. Finally, she was able to look him in the eye, her face no longer red.

She shrugged. "I told you to try me."

"That you did," he said, the tiniest smirk upon his face.

"I'll consider you surprised, then. I thought you said you'd learn?"

"Apparently, today is simply not that day."

Rebecca smiled, then turned from him and started the way back to the castle. Severus watched her walk away before following her.


	17. Breakthroughs, Late July to Early August

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for Rebecca. I don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **I'd like to thank everyone for their kind reviews. Please know that they make me smile and keep me writing. :) Things start progressing from here, and the rating will begin to go up as a result, so be forewarned.

* * *

_The Breakdown, July 25, 1999_

Severus had been careful with her for the next couple of days. But she seemed much more herself, the young woman he recalled being so strong-willed and argumentative, than she'd been when he had first seen her at the Weasley wedding. While he realised this was what he wanted, another part of him knew that there was little possibility of her remaining attached to him as she thought she'd come to be. Inexplicably, he felt the returning of that empty feeling, though he tried to ignore it or push it away.

She was out this night, having made plans with Granger. Mrs. Weasley. She would always be know-it-all Granger, the irritating Gryffindor who didn't know when to keep her mouth shut or paraphrase. In any case, she was not here, and Severus was left, once more, with nothing pressing to do. He read for a while, the newspaper and a book, before pacing for a few minutes, doing his best to think of nothing. When that failed, he turned to the lavatory.

He entered the lavatory and looked at himself in the mirror. Severus examined each contour in his face, the lines that had formed upon his brow and beside his mouth. Anger lines, not laugh lines. Stress lines. Slowly deteriorating. Or at least, perhaps, not becoming any worse.

Slowly, his hands reached for the collar of his shirt. The first two buttons came undone, and the collar was pushed away, pulled downward. The snake bite was revealed to him, having changed very little since he'd begun putting her salve upon it. But it had changed. No longer were the markings so torn-looking. The edges were somewhat smoother. And the other scars upon his neck that he'd had since childhood were already beginning to fade because of the salve. His fingers rested against the markings, much like they'd rested against the Mark upon the back of her neck her first night here. How soft her skin had been. Warm. Inviting.

His lips pursed once more as he frowned. He had to stop thinking like this. This had been what he'd wanted. She was growing stronger, more sure of herself. This had been the plan. But at night, she haunted his dreams, her naked figure floating before him, just out of his reach. And it was enough to make him wake up, hands clenched at his sides as he trembled with his want and his want not to want her. His sleep was intermittent, as a result, and tonight he wasn't sure if he would be able to sleep.

Since coming to the realisation of his affections for her, Severus was finding it more difficult to simply let her be. In the lab, while they read quietly, or even when she wasn't even in the same room, he wanted to speak with her, to touch her. It was so uncharacteristic of him, but he recognised these feelings. But these were much stronger, or so they seemed, than his feelings towards Lily. But those memories, he recalled, he'd already rectified in his mind. The feelings within them would be dimmed. This, however, still felt different somehow.

Though none of it mattered. She would move on just as he had wanted her to. Just as everyone had wanted her to. Even as her _friend_ Turner told her to. She would move on, as had been the plan, and he would no longer matter to her, particularly when he'd left the school. Out of sight, out of mind. When he was away from her for long enough, she would forget him, and he would forget her. And perhaps she would stay out of his dreams, out of his life, and let him continue on in solitude, as seemed to be his fate.

_She will love another_, he thought, staring at himself in the mirror.

But the mere idea of her with another… Turner. Flint. Lupin.

The hand that had been absently scratching at his cheek suddenly reared up, balling into a fist. He struck the mirror with a force he wasn't aware he had stored within him. The glass made a huge crashing and clattering, falling straight onto the counter and over all of their items, into the sinks, and even onto the floor.

Severus' chest heaved in and out, great breaths slowly forcing him to comprehend what he had done. Then the door opened behind him. Severus looked over his shoulder to see Rebecca, wearing a simple, black dress, standing in the doorway, her wand at the ready.

"Severus, what happened?" she asked, quickly lowering her wand and stepping toward him. Heels clicked against the tile of the lavatory.

"I did not believe you were back," he said, his voice even, but deeper than usual. "I did not wish to disturb you."

His hand still rested against the wall, where the mirror had been. Rebecca stood beside him and reached for his hand, pulling it away from the wall. With a flourish of her wand, the mirror repaired itself and sat once more where it had. She looked over his hand, brows furrowed slightly and frowning at his hand. He didn't pull from her, watching her assess him as he'd done to her all those nights ago, after she'd received her Mark and had broken his mirror.

"You're lucky it only scraped against your skin," she said. "Makes it easy enough to heal."

With more quick flicks of her wand, his hand was no longer bleeding, healed, and cleaned. But she still held his hand, afraid that if she let him go he would try to escape this conversation. She set her wand on the counter beside the sink. It would be close at hand, but wasn't necessary at the moment.

"What happened?"

"Why have you returned early?"

Rebecca sighed. "Hermione wasn't feeling well. She had to go home, so I came back. Now answer the question."

"I smashed a mirror."

"Why?"

"Because I felt frustration."

"You're more difficult to get straight answers out of than Albus," Rebecca said with a sigh.

"I dislike the comparison."

"Then answer the question and I'll stop."

"You sound like a broken record."

"Because you're not answering me, so I have to keep repeating myself."

"I do not have to answer to my apprentice," Severus said, pulling away from her.

The grip upon his hand tightened. His head whipped around to glare at her.

"Let. Go," he said, lip raised in a sneer.

She stared back at him. He doubly regretted his decision to force her to grow stronger. This would have been much easier when she hadn't been entirely herself. So he took a step forward. Still she didn't loosen her grip.

Severus did not enjoy the feeling of being cornered. Not as she didn't enjoy being physically cornered. This was emotional cornering. But he wasn't angry with her, and that made him feel even more frustrated, more cornered. In fact, he noted that she still didn't wear any makeup, and that he was content with this. She smelled pleasant, and her hair was hanging close enough that he could nearly touch it. And the desire to do so was overwhelming. With his free hand, he reached up quickly and pushed past her hair, grasping the back of her neck and steering her into the counter of the sink.

Rebecca planted her feet just in time, keeping him from pressing her fully against the counter. But there was barely an inch between them, and now it was he who had her grasped tightly enough that she couldn't escape. But she kept her face neutral. He hadn't harmed her when he truly could have just two days ago; he would not harm her now.

She was glad she believed that so whole-heartedly. His face was anything but neutral now. His sneer was firmly in place, his eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. And his gaze was unyielding. He was quiet for a time before his lips finally opened just enough for him to speak.

"The mirror was broken while I thought of you," he whispered harshly.

She could see all the clear signs of anger upon his face, but he was a master at manipulating his expressions. His eyes stayed locked onto hers, and there she could see that they quivered quickly back and forth. And also that his pupils were dilated.

"That's not the whole truth," Rebecca said. She pushed against him, separating them sufficiently for now. "You'll speak to me like I'm an adult. You don't have a right to shove me around."

Her hand reached up to pull at the hand on her neck, but his grip went slack as soon as her fingers touched the back of his hand. When she began to look back at his face, she found his head bent so that his nose was just a hair away from her cheek, his eyes closed. She held still as he took in her scent.

"I do not want you," he said. She could feel the breath from his mouth upon her cheek. "But the thought of you with another drives me to such irrationality that I destroy a mirror."

Rebecca licked her lips nervously. "I know the feeling."

"That is a feeling you should not have." He had not moved from his position so close to her, his brows still furrowed.

"I'm not your student," she whispered.

"You are my apprentice. I will devastate your reputation, your career— your life. I will bring you down, and I will ruin you."

She felt his fingers trail down her neck and pause at her shoulder before taking them away from her body. Rebecca felt the loss of contact weigh heavily on her mind, but she remained still.

"You have too much trust in me," he said.

"You won't hurt me."

"Wouldn't I?" His eyes opened slightly so he could stare at her. Rebecca found herself unable to breathe.

"Not physically."

He still had not moved his face or the rest of his body. Rebecca's breathing was shallow, and her hand was still held tightly in his grasp, her free hand resting against the counter just behind her. His eyes had closed once more, and Rebecca wondered if this was how he managed to stay in control when he seemed so on-edge. Slowly, she let her free hand move from behind her to his forehead. She touched his hair gently, pushing it back.

He broke their grasp quickly at her touch. Rebecca let him go, the complete breaking of their contact leaving her trembling. No, she had already been trembling. With anxiousness, with anticipation… she couldn't tell.

They stared at one another, neither moving. His black eyes were as intense as ever.

"You do not understand what I am capable of, and you must know that," he said, his palms open, one of his hands rising so he could point at her momentarily. "I will not be swayed in this matter."

"I haven't been trying to sway you. I told you I wouldn't."

Severus paused. She had not instigated this. It had been all his doing that things had escalated as they had.

"_Good night_, Rebecca," he said, choosing to stare her down.

She stared back, thinking about saying something threatening. But anything she said would immediately be turned against her. Instead, she gave him a scathing look.

"Good night, Severus."

She turned and shut the door behind her, making sure it closed quietly. There would be no more shoving her about as he'd been doing. Rebecca was tired and frustrated with this treatment. Even still, her heartbeat didn't slow for quite a time, both from adrenaline and the rush of actually making the move to touch his hair. She paced about her bedroom while she thought. He'd been so close to her and she hadn't given into the panic that had attempted to well up within her. And that was just one thing that impressed her about this whole ordeal.

Severus was on the edge, she could tell. She wouldn't have to do a thing to tip him one way or another. Already he was being more open, if in his usual, snide manner, with his thoughts and feelings toward her. If she simply sat back, Rebecca wondered how long it would be until the odds tipped in her favour. The thought made her giddy; she quickly shoved that aside. There was no need to think like that. Getting her hopes up hadn't worked for her in the past.

Instead, she resolved that she would continue to work on her anxiety and fears concerning people being too close to her or touching her. This would prepare her for the school year and possibly frustrate Severus in the meantime. Well, she had to take pleasure in the little things, even if they were a bit horrible, she thought with a smirk.

* * *

"You cast a spell on me, spell on me. / You hit me like the sky fell on me, fell on me. / And I decided you looked well on me, well on me. / Now let's go somewhere no one else can see you and me. / Turn the lights out now. / Now I'll take you by the hand, / Hand you another drink, / Drink it if you can, / Can you spend a little time? / Time is slippin' away, / Away from us so stay, / Stay with me and I'll make, / Make you glad you came. / The sun goes down, the stars come out, / And all that counts is here and now. / My universe will never be the same. / I'm glad you came. / I'm glad you came." –"I'm Glad You Came" The Wanted

_Harry's Birthday, July 31, 1999_

Rebecca prepared herself to go to Grimmauld Place for dinner that evening. She'd been brewing all day, so the shower was a welcome feeling over her cramping muscles and hair thickened with the awful salve to keep it in its place. Her scalp itched, and as soon as she'd washed her hair with both the shampoo and the conditioner, she let her nails rush over her scalp for a good minute before finally sighing and continuing with the rest of her shower.

Though they were quieter around one another than they had been in the previous week, Rebecca found that after the first day, the camaraderie with Severus was easier to share, particularly because their talk was much lighter than normal. He seemed to be trying since his near breakdown in the lavatory. Sometimes he slipped into his professorial way of speech when he was annoyed. But hope kindled within her that things would get better from this point.

She dressed and brushed her hair out, letting it curl softly at the ends as it was usually wont to do. Then she made her way to his quarters to let him know she was leaving, in case he had need of her later.

She opened the door to find him heading out from his study. He looked up at her, her hair recently dried and vibrant from its wash. The blouse she wore was a light green, a color she seemed to favour, he'd come to notice. Her slacks were a good fit and a light tan color. And she seemed taller. Heels, a dark brown. An unusual choice. But she looked lovely, he allowed himself to admit. He'd been doing that more and more recently. And it was growing more difficult each day to stop himself from the thought, that and many others that tended to creep up when he was not mindful of where his feelings wandered.

"I'm off to Harry's," she said, standing just before the door.

"I am aware," he said. "Potter has also invited me, though I was not planning to attend."

"Grimmauld Place doesn't exactly have fond memories, I suppose."

"Nor does the company seem to be of my liking."

Rebecca smirked. "I appreciate the compliment."

He rolled his eyes. "Current company excluded."

"Thank you," she said. "The Malfoys will be there, too. It shouldn't be too bad."

"I have not obtained a gift for Potter."

"Harry wouldn't expect you to give him a gift. You saved his life countless times. I think that's a lifetime of birthday presents."

"You sound as though you are attempting to goad me into accompanying you."

Rebecca shrugged. "Perhaps being social would come more naturally to you if you chose to expand your company."

"I believe I shall remain here, reading. Books do not have the tendency to deride or become obnoxious."

"Suit yourself, Severus," Rebecca said. "I shouldn't be too late." She turned toward the open doorway.

"As long as you are able to brew your potions without error come tomorrow morning, I shall be satisfied."

Rebecca paused and glanced at him over her shoulder. "That won't be a problem. Until tomorrow."

Severus sat in his chair once more, listening for her movements. There was too much space to hear her, but he always attempted to discern when she left. He thought on the past week, how things had slowly changed between them. That night, after he'd smashed the mirror and had gotten so close to her, Severus had promptly destroyed and revived everything in his bedroom within a few minutes. That had felt satisfying then, but was embarrassing for a number of reasons now. She should not be driving him to such efforts.

The next day, he could sense how angry she still was. They hadn't spoken much that day, but at meals Severus had attempted a lighter air with her. This seemed to help, as the next day their speech, though still fragmented and not often, had regained some of their former familiarity with one another. By the third day, she was no longer tense around him. The day after, when he came down the stairs to the laboratory, he could hear her half-singing, half-humming a tune. He'd remained on the steps for a while, simply listening, afraid that if he entered the room she would stop. When he entered after she'd finished, she gave him a quick smile before turning her attention back to the potion she was working on. After a few minutes, she took up her humming once again. That had been a pleasant day.

Things had progressed between them, despite Severus' brain telling him to stop these efforts. They would be futile in the end, absolutely useless, once he'd extricated himself from her life completely. But he found that he could not stop himself.

He glanced at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace. It was only just after six, and five minutes had passed since her leaving. He would not see her again until tomorrow morning, when they would be attempting more higher-level potions. And she would need to concentrate, so their talk would, once more, be limited. He fidgeted, something he hadn't done since boyhood.

Finally, he stood, sneering. His dress now would be acceptable, he thought as he grabbed his cloak on the way out of his quarters. A quick stop by Diagon Alley before Apparating to Grimmauld Place would assure he would not show up completely empty-handed.

Rebecca had arrived as scheduled, just after six. Kreacher had a different air about him, and had answered the door wearing a conical-shaped, paper party hat.

"Master Harry's Slytherin friend," he said, bowing slightly as he stepped out of her way. "Kreacher welcomes you to the noble house of Black."

"Thank you, Kreacher. Please call me Rebecca," she said as she stepped into the entryway.

He shut the door behind her. "Kreacher thanks Miss Rebecca," the house elf said. "Master Harry told Kreacher that Miss Rebecca is also a Black by blood."

"Very little. Not nearly as much as Narcissa Malfoy or Andromeda Tonks."

"Kreacher points out that Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Tonks be having their own homes now. Kreacher is glad Master Harry was taking over the noble house of Black. But Kreacher is also glad to be serving another Black again."

Rebecca looked down at the house elf and saw how eagerly he appeared when peering up at her. She smiled at him.

"I'll be glad to have such a faithful friend of the house of Black with me tonight," she said.

The house elf brought himself up to his full height. "Master Harry and the others will be expecting Miss Rebecca. Kreacher will be taking Miss Rebecca to them."

The place was already full with visitors, and at first glance the living room, so full of people and decorations, was a thousand times brighter than it had been since their days spent here during the war. As soon as she'd entered, Rebecca had been swarmed by many people seeking welcome hugs and wanting to speak to her all at once. Rebecca informed them that she would tell them everything momentarily, and finally was able to find Harry and give him his own hug and his wrapped birthday present.

She made the rounds for about the next half-hour, finally ending up speaking with Remus, who held Teddy, Andromeda, and the Malfoys. Astoria had also been invited, and held onto Draco's arm. Narcissa reached for Teddy, already cooing affectionately. Rebecca smiled at the unusual scene playing out before her.

"Just wait until he grows up," Andromeda said, patting Remus' arm.

"He'll be a regular heart-breaker," Remus said, smirking as he watched Narcissa gently bounce little Teddy up and down in her arms.

Rebecca laughed, resting her hand on Remus' forearm. She had been pushing her limits tonight already with the crowded room, but none of these people were out to harm her. If any place was perfect enough to practice pushing her physical limitations, it was here.

"He'll be fending them off by the dozens," she said.

It was Remus' turn to laugh, and Rebecca drew her hand away from him, glad that she was finally able to see the expression upon his face. Remus, too, seemed much changed since the year before. He was already living with Andromeda and enjoying the transition. He was comfortable around Teddy, even as the young boy began showing more and more signs of his mother's Metamorphmagus tendencies. Parts of him didn't seem to change at will, they simply changed. But he was learning, Remus had assured her.

Idly, Rebecca wondered what Severus was doing at the moment. Even amidst everything, he still pervaded her thoughts. She felt annoyed at this, but let the emotion go after an instant so she could focus on the conversation that she was a part of now.

It was seven when Kreacher entered the room once more. Rebecca noticed him before anyone else did, including the dark figure behind the small, elderly house elf. A smile came to her face.

"Professor Severus Snape," Kreacher said loudly.

Immediately, the focus of the room shifted as everyone quieted. Severus stepped into the room, a small, covered dish held in one hand. His black eyes scanned the room before landing on Rebecca, still unable to hide her smile, even as tiny as it was. Severus felt triumph fill him at her expression, until he noticed who she stood next to. His eyes flicked away from her, wondering what in the hell had come over him to want to attend this event in the first place. He was under all the guests' uncomfortable gazes, until Potter stepped out of the crowd, the smile upon his face much bigger than it needed to be.

"Professor Snape," Harry said, "I'm glad you could make it."

"Potter," Severus said with a nod of his head. He held out the dish.

Harry took it graciously, still smiling. "Thank you so much, sir, but you really didn't have to." He shifted the dish into one hand as he gestured. "Make yourself at home. Kreacher is more than happy to get you any drinks you'd like."

The house elf bobbed up and down at his name being mentioned, the silly hat upon his head nearly falling from its place. Severus simply gave another slow nod of his head.

"I am… appreciative of your invitation," he said, looking to the boy who had been the bane of his existence for so many years.

Under the quiet watchfulness of everyone in attendance, he was certain his every move would be scrutinized, but Severus found himself silently telling them all to get stuffed.

Harry nodded, perhaps too shocked to do anything else. "You're more than welcome, professor."

With a slight inclining of his head, Severus made his way toward the group Rebecca had situated herself in, veering toward Narcissa and Lucius rather than the other side of the little circle, which was comprised of Andromeda, Lupin, and Rebecca.

"Severus," Lucius said, "I'm surprised to see you here."

"Rebecca told us you'd prefer to stay at home with a book," Narcissa said, still holding Teddy, who eyed the newcomer with eyes that had recently turned a shade of ice blue.

"My apprentice annoyed me into making an appearance," Severus replied.

Rebecca nearly opened her mouth to refute the statement, but instead gave a tiny smirk. When his eyes fell upon her again, he noticed the expression. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, and he could see that she was pleased with his appearance. The triumph swelled once more. He broke their eye contact and turned to speak with Narcissa and Lucius once more.

"I'm finding myself in agreement with Lucius," Remus said to Rebecca. "Something I never imagined myself saying."

Rebecca shrugged. "There's no telling what he'll do anymore. Excuse me, Remus, I have to make the rounds some more."

The man nodded, and Rebecca slipped through the crowd again, stopping to speak with George, who had brought Angelina Johnson, and Hagrid, who sat on a very sturdy chair.

"Easier ta sit than stoop!" the half-giant had boomed after greeting Rebecca.

Every so often, even as Rebecca made her way around the room and updated everyone on her progress in her apprenticeship and how she'd been fairing otherwise, she would steal glances at Severus. The surly man was being pressed into conversation with nearly everyone in the room, either by Narcissa or by Draco. When she looked over at one point, she even saw him speaking with Harry, who appeared to be complimenting him on the desserts he'd brought. Another moment saw him speaking with Minerva or Filius, who had also been on the invite list along with many other Hogwarts professors.

It had been nearly an hour, and she hadn't stopped to speak with him. She hadn't been able to fathom why, and ducked out of the room to use the loo and give herself a chance to breathe. Being social was taking a toll on her, and the few minutes alone in the small room helped to calm her. When she exited, she made her way down the hallway and was intercepted.

Severus appeared out of nowhere, as he had always seemed to be able to do. Rebecca put a hand over her heart as it skipped a beat, giving him an irritated look. They were within a foot of one another in the hallway, well enough away from the other guests that they could speak without having to raise their voices over the other noises.

"I believe you are attempting to avoid me," he said.

"I would've thought you'd have spent enough time in my presence," Rebecca answered. "And who would expect you to want to spend time with me when I annoyed you into coming in the first place?"

"Perhaps a taste of the tarts I have brought will placate your own annoyance with me," he said with a raised brow.

"I simply find you amusing, Severus." She smiled. "Who knew you could be pressed into joining the throng of socialites?"

She made to move past him, but he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. Rebecca stopped beside him and looked at him, finding his face very close to hers once more. His hair hung about his face like a shroud, so close that it nearly touched hers.

"You will not be disappointed with the tarts," he said quietly, his voice silk. "I assure you."

Rebecca felt her insides quiver and immediately thought how stupid a reaction it was to have at so simple a statement. The neutral look upon his face was contradicted by their proximity and the tone of his voice. He had to be doing this on purpose, trying to tell her something in his own, unique way. And Rebecca believed she understood. He had come for her, because she had asked it of him.

"I'll be sure to get one right now," she said, her voice breathy.

Severus nodded, letting his hand slip off her shoulder as he took a step back. Rebecca made her way quickly from the hallway, under his intense gaze the entire time. She had to feel her cheeks with her hands to make sure they weren't burning, which thankfully wasn't the case.

As Rebecca made her way across the room and towards the table laid out with different treats, she wondered what had changed in him so suddenly. Ever since her return, she and Severus had been doing some sort of strange dance that neither of them knew all of the steps to. And since his breakdown last week, he had been making small attempts, until tonight with his giant leap, at gaining her favour. And their encounter in the hallway just now had nearly made her knees give out from underneath her, she was sad to admit. What was going on?

She picked up a tart, easily distinguishable by their red tint, and took a bite out of it. Strawberry. The tarts were the taste of delicious, freshly-picked strawberries. Her favourite fruit. She didn't even remember mentioning that to him at any point. She looked about the room and found him speaking, once more, with the Malfoys—his comfort zone. Rebecca watched him openly until his eyes finally looked away from Narcissa. At Rebecca's shocked expression, his look softened ever so slightly. Then he was entirely devoted to his conversation once more.

"All right, Becca?" Harry asked, coming up behind her and placing his hand upon her shoulder.

She jumped just a bit. "Yes, fine," she said, stuttering slightly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to give you a fright."

She shook her head. "It's all right. I'm working on it still." She popped the rest of the tart in her mouth and chewed, trying to give herself a moment to calm down.

"They're great, aren't they?" Harry asked, picking up a tart as well and eating it all in one bite.

Rebecca nodded. "Very good. When are you opening your gifts?"

"I wasn't really…"

Rebecca grinned wickedly. "The birthday boy hasn't opened his gifts yet!" she called, drawing the attention of those closest to her, which slowly turned into all of the guests. They called for the opening of the gifts.

This allowed her to slip into the crowd, to seek the protective presence of Remus and Teddy. She offered to hold the infant for a while, which Remus agreed to. Teddy wasn't so much interested in Rebecca's hair any longer, as he'd been at the weddings earlier in the summer. He was at the stage of learning words and babbling, which he'd been doing on and off all night. As Harry began opening his first gift, from Arthur and Molly, Teddy was making a low "b" sound over and over while looking up at her, though he continued to do so while looking at his surroundings.

"You can call me 'b' if you want," Rebecca told the child quietly, shifting his weight a little bit. "I won't mind."

Teddy continued to make the noise, his ice blue eyes staring at her inquisitively. Remus, from beside her, smiled down at his son and lifted his hand to part the child's currently ginger-coloured hair on the left side of his face.

"He likes you, Becca," Remus said quietly. "But he does seem to take to women more easily than men."

Rebecca shrugged. "Babies do strange things like that, or so I've heard."

"Beh," said Teddy, looking directly up at Rebecca.

Rebecca looked down at the boy. "Are you trying to say Becca?"

"Beh," said Teddy.

She chuckled. "Close enough, buddy."

"Beh."

Even Remus had to laugh at that a little bit. Harry was now at his third present, and Rebecca felt a little relieved at some of the pressure being taken off of her. Somewhere in the room, she knew Severus was probably watching her. What he could possibly be thinking she had no clue.

"Becca, Harry's opening your gift," Remus said, glancing at the young woman beside him. She looked lost in her thoughts. "Becca."

Her face turned up toward his. "Oh, is he?"

"Yes. Here, I'll take Teddy."

"Beh," said Teddy as he was transferred from Rebecca to his father.

They watched as Harry opened Rebecca's gift, which was in a long, thin box. As he opened the lid, Harry paused before setting the lid down carefully on the table. He lifted the object out of the box.

Rebecca smiled at the look of absolute elation on her friend's face, and a cry from those in the room who had played Quidditch.

"Becca, you can't be serious," Remus said. "A Firebolt?"

"Don't even, Remus, this moment is worth it," Rebecca replied.

"Becca!" Harry called, immediately finding her in the small gathering of people in his living room. She approached the edge of the little circle they'd all made, and he met her.

"I can't accept this," Harry said quietly. "It's too nice of you. There's a reason I never bought one again."

Rebecca shook her head. "Harry, stop it. If this is about cost, you don't have anything to worry about."

"Of course I do," he said, trying to hand her the Firebolt. Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's rude to discuss the price of a gift, Harry Potter," Rebecca said, "especially in front of our friends. We'll talk about it later. Just hug me."

She opened her arms and held Harry to her for a moment, squeezing him tightly. One of his hands held tightly to her, the other still holding his new Firebolt. Rebecca pulled from the hug, smiling at him.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

"Thank you, Becca. Seriously."

He held the Firebolt gingerly, as if it would explode, as he turned back to the table that held all of his gifts. Rebecca looked after him, spotting Severus holding back from the crowd. Rebecca turned and made her way back through her friends. George patted her on the shoulder as she passed him and Angelina. Finally, she made her way out of the enclosed circle of friends and made her way over to Severus, leaning against the wall as she reached him, arms crossed.

"A gift no one was expecting, it seems," Severus said quietly.

"No. But all the better, I think. I'm surprised he didn't figure it out by the box."

"Your gifts, Rebecca, always seem to be just what the individual needs, but may not necessarily allow themselves to desire."

Rebecca gave him a sideways glance, wondering if he was referencing her own simple gift to him. "Harry was torn up about losing the Firebolt Sirius gave to him the night Alastor died." She shrugged. "He never said anything outright, but you could see it."

"Was he attempting to return it to your possession?"

Rebecca nodded. "He's concerned for the cost is all."

"At the rate you spend your own monetary earnings upon your friends, I cannot blame Potter for being concerned," Severus replied evenly.

Rebecca smiled as she looked at him. "Even if I did pay full price for the Firebolt, it wouldn't matter to me."

"I assume from your diction, however, that you did not."

Rebecca shook her head. "A war hero buying a birthday present for her best friend, who happens to be the saviour of the wizarding world, does not have to pay full price, even when she doesn't ask for special treatment, I've discovered. They practically handed it to me."

"What will you tell Potter?"

"That he could've gotten it for free if he simply showed up in the shop himself," Rebecca said with a smirk.

Severus gave a quiet snort. "The boy would have insisted upon paying full price should they have simply handed it to him."

"Which is why I got it for him. I'm hopeful that once he takes his first ride on it, which I'll insist upon once all of his gifts have been opened, all matters of cost will fly away in the wind."

"Truly a Slytherin mind, Rebecca."

"I'm glad you're finally coming round to the idea of it, Severus." She smiled.

Once all of the presents were opened, Rebecca didn't even have to call for a demonstration of the Firebolt's power. George and Ron had that completely covered, and Rebecca sat back as Harry took off from the small backyard of Grimmauld Place. His shouts of happiness in the night sky were enough for her.

He didn't need an explanation after that. When he landed, Ginny was the first person he found and hugged to him, quickly handing over the broomstick to her and insisting that she take a ride, which she did. George and Ron fought one another for a chance to ride the new broom once their sister had finished hers. Harry found Rebecca again and gave her a giant bear hug, lifting her off the ground. Rebecca laughed as he spun her.

"You're the best, Becca," Harry said once he'd set her firmly on the ground.

"I know how much the Firebolt meant to you," Rebecca said. "I get it."

He simply grinned at her.

All those who wanted turns on the Firebolt were given them. Rebecca wanted to stay on the ground for tonight, though Harry was insistent upon her taking a ride.

"It's only right," he said. "Please?"

Rebecca stared at the broom, knowing that the last time she'd ridden a broom had been the night of Alastor's death two years ago. She had conquered so many fears already this summer. Her last memory of riding a broom shouldn't be so terrifying. With a shaking hand, she reached for the Firebolt. A pleased cry went up from the watching crowd.

Rebecca quickly toed off her heels before throwing her leg over the broom and planting her feet firmly on the ground, both hands upon the handle before her. She felt her whole body trembling with anticipation and anxiety. Finally, she kicked off the ground.

Her ascension was fast, almost too fast. Rebecca nearly lost her grip, but forced her hands more tightly upon the handle of the broom. Her jaw clenched as she rose to an acceptable level, where the muggles weren't likely to take notice of her quiet flight. Once she leveled out and flew forward, Rebecca focused on the wind blowing her hair back and ruffling her clothing. It was pleasant, not a necessary and frightening journey. She thought back to that night, how Alastor and she had been so synchronized, how all of their moves had been so fast-paced and dependent upon the other. It had been a dangerous dance they'd been in, and it had been scary and thrilling all at once.

Rebecca leaned forward upon the broom, flattening her body as much as she could as she went into a steep dive, just as she had that night on many occasions. The look upon Alastor's face as Tom's curse had hit him, killing him instantly, came to the forefront of her mind. The curse that had been meant for her, the fake Harry. How she'd tried to fight him, to protect him, and how he'd refused to let her do so. Rebecca finally pulled out of the dive, missing the tree line by only a few feet. The limbs waved in the breeze she created.

As soon as she was high enough, Rebecca forced the broom into the intricate spins she and Alastor had made that night while flying for their lives, chased by Death Eaters. Their spells had rushed past their ears, feet, and chests as they covered one another. Bright flashes of light in an otherwise dull and black sky. The final green light that had snuffed out Alastor's life. How his eyes lost their own light as he fell forward.

Rebecca made her way back to the small backyard of Grimmauld Place, and she didn't realize until she landed that there were tears on her cheeks. Harry came forward and took the Firebolt from her, setting it aside. It hovered in the air obediently.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Rebecca nodded. "Yeah. I just needed to do that, you know?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I understand," Harry said with a nod. "D'you feel better?"

Rebecca wiped at her cheeks, giving her time to think. "I do. It helped, actually."

Harry hugged her once more, and Rebecca rested her chin upon her friend's cheek. One of her few remaining family members. A friend who had always believed in her, no matter the circumstances. Over his shoulder, she could see everyone looking concerned. Behind them, Severus stood, firmly looking away from the scene.

They broke their hug once more, but Harry slung an arm over her shoulder and picked up his Firebolt with his free hand.

"Let's head back inside before we have the police called on us," he said.

The party would have gone on all night, Rebecca was sure, had Remus and Andromeda not left around ten, Teddy hanging limply in Remus' arms, asleep. Rebecca bid them all goodbye, ruffling Teddy's hair lightly. She smiled at Remus and gave him a half-hug before turning to Andromeda to receive a full hug.

It wasn't long afterward that Rebecca felt a sense of her own tiredness creeping upon her. She found Severus beside Lucius.

"I'm ready to head back to the castle," she told him.

"I will accompany you."

Rebecca nodded. "I have to say goodbye to Harry."

"And leave Lucius without as much as a little acknowledgement," the Malfoy said with a smile.

"Of course not," Rebecca said, leaning in to hug Lucius.

The goodbyes took much longer than Rebecca had originally anticipated. By the time she and Severus had managed to walk out the front door of Grimmauld Place, it was nearly eleven. They walked across the street to the dark, vacant park to Apparate. Just as she was about to take out her wand, Severus reached out and took her gently by the wrist to stop her.

"You are tired," he said. "Allow me."

"All right."

She was too tired to argue. He held onto her wrist as he raised his wand. Rebecca wrapped her hand around his wrist just before they Apparated. They appeared before the gates of Hogwarts once more. Once she got her bearings, Rebecca let go of his wrist, which is when his grip upon her released as well.

They began their slow ascent to the castle. It was quiet for a time between them.

"You had not flown since the night of seven Potters," Severus said, breaking the silence of the warm night air.

"A good name for it, I suppose," Rebecca replied. "And no, I hadn't."

It was a few more steps up the hill before he glanced at her. "Did your flight give you closure?"

"Of a sort. Just another memory to conquer."

"You are, in fact, much stronger than all others who give you that credit," he said quietly.

He remained silent throughout their walk to the castle, and even into the dungeons. Rebecca didn't respond to the compliment, not really knowing how she would. As they reached the dungeons, he stopped behind her while she opened the door to her quarters. Rebecca turned back to face him.

"I'm glad you came tonight," she said. "I didn't expect you to."

"I was not expecting the action of myself, either."

Rebecca gave a tired smile. "Well, I think you making the effort shows people something good about you."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It matters little to me."

"Then why show up at all?"

"That, unfortunately, I still have been unable to discern myself," Severus said. After a beat, he asked, "Did you enjoy the tarts?"

"Very much. I think they were the hit of the party."

"If you are interested, this Saturday I can escort you to the cart I purchased them from in Diagon Alley."

"I would like that, thank you."

The faintest of smiles appeared upon his face and disappeared just as quickly as it had shown up.

"Do not concern yourself with being in the lab as soon as the sun is up," Severus said. "I believe we both could use the extra sleep."

Rebecca nodded, stifling a yawn.

"I've kept you up longer than necessary," Severus said. "Goodnight, Rebecca."

"Goodnight, Severus."

She watched him walk the short distance down the corridor and make the turn that would take him to the entrance to his quarters. Rebecca shut the door behind her. When she reached her bedroom, she allowed herself to think on the subject as she changed into her sleeping attire. She paused only to place the sound-proofing wards upon her room. Once the lights were out and she crawled into bed did she dare to think about how the tone of his voice had affected her, how close he'd put himself to her again. The sudden change in his demeanour, she was both pleased and upset to admit, was welcoming. But her Slytherin thinking, even as she started to fall asleep, warned her that it could all be a simple trap.

* * *

_A Trip to Diagon Alley, August 4, 1999_

The remainder of the week saw the different professors returning to the school to begin prepping their classrooms, reviewing their curricula, and preparing the castle for the new school year. Most professors wouldn't begin living at the castle once more until the end of August, but lunchtime saw the staff table mostly full, with chatter kept light and humourous.

Rebecca was happy to see the other professors once more. She was neutral when it came to Roger Davies, the person chosen to replace Percy and Minerva as the Transfiguration professor. He had been two years ahead of her, and all Rebecca recalled of him was that he'd gone to the Yule Ball with Fleur and had merely stared at her the entire time like a nitwit. But apparently Minerva had faith in his ability to teach, especially the tough subject of transfiguration. As it stood, Rebecca kept her distance from him for now, though he seemed interested in speaking with her.

Severus seemed content with himself thus far, and had made no further motions to encroach upon her personal space. It wasn't out of hesitancy, Rebecca thought, but perhaps to see how she might react to him. She treated him normally, her overcautious nature continually warning her that his sudden change could be some ploy to convince her of his inadequacies in a different way. And she wasn't interested in getting hurt again, not by the same man.

Saturday finally arrived and saw them at breakfast with their same, small group as before, Filius joining the group to make it five strong.

"Do you have any plans today, Rebecca?" the small wizard asked her.

She nodded. "A trip to Diagon Alley for a few things."

"A wise decision since your expensive gift to Mr. Potter earlier this week?" Minerva asked with a good-natured smile.

Rebecca shrugged. "I plan on beginning to restock the potions stores, which won't be of my own money, but the school's," she said easily. "If I happen to see something of interest there, then that will be well."

"Filling the stores by yourself?" Minerva asked, looking to Severus.

"I am convinced Rebecca to be more than capable of a simple task," Severus said. "She knows the ingredients that will keep the longest and what to look for and how to order those that are not in stock. I will not always aid her in such endeavours."

Minerva didn't look pleased, but said nothing. Once breakfast was over, Rebecca made her way toward the Entrance Hall, Severus following her out onto the grounds.

"You did not need to leave so much unsaid," he told her as they walked toward the gates.

"There are many things Minerva doesn't need to know. She may be the Headmistress, but she's not yet my employer. And even then, I don't need to explain my personal life to her."

Severus glanced to the young woman beside him, a tiny smile gracing his features. She wanted to keep things quiet, just as he preferred. She had grown cautious in the past year, more so than he thought possible for her. But it pleased him that she seemed to pick up on what he wanted for… whatever this was between them to remain under wraps. Clearly, she'd taken his warning to heart. There was the possibility that it was something else entirely as well, and Severus couldn't discount that.

They Apparated separately today, arriving just outside of the Leaky Cauldron and walking through together. Severus was always a step behind her. She kindly greeted Tom the bartender and quickly moved on her way. She received many looks while they were briefly in the bar, Severus noted, but she merely acknowledged those who spoke to her warmly. The others were disregarded. Severus received his own share of nods of recognition, but she was the one who was well-received. But their being seen together wouldn't cause much of a stir; it was known that she spent much time at Hogwarts and rumours of her becoming the new Potions Mistress were boundless. She'd informed the American Minister of her plans two weeks after settling into the castle, before the rumours would get out of hand. She hadn't spoken much of the subject, and Severus hadn't pressed, presuming that they had come to some sort of agreement.

Diagon Alley, once the two of them reached it, was just as it had always been on a Saturday: bustling. Those who walked about took little notice of their surroundings, even of the wizard who looked so out of place and the witch who seemed out of place beside him. Finally, she looked to him.

"I'd like to stop by the Apothecary first before we do any looking about," she said.

"Of course."

He allowed her to lead the way. The Apothecary was in the center of the busiest section of the market, and they were forced to shove their way through the crowd at points, especially with it being within a month of Hogwarts beginning. Severus watched her for signs of discomfort. She was not in her element here, but pushed past her obvious hatred of the crowd and managed to stand before the Apothecary unscathed and without snapping at another who had brushed against her. She took in a breath before entering the shop.

Severus hung back as she greeted the shop owner by name, he returning the kindness. She leaned upon the counter and spoke in a low voice to the owner, Thomas Blake, removing her cloak as she did so. No longer obscured by her cloak, Severus caught a glimpse of the way her blouse contoured to her shoulders, arms, and breasts. He kept his eyes from lingering here, knowing others might be watching him, and instead transferred his interest to her face. Her features were open today, and though there was a bit of sweat upon her brow, perhaps from the fight through the crowd and her own nervousness because of it, she looked remarkable still. He saw her fold up her cloak as Blake moved away from the counter and place it inside her bag, slung round her shoulder as it usually was.

The black bag did not contrast overly much with her jeans, an odd choice for a day in Diagon Alley. But her clothing choice had become more varied over the past week and a half, Severus had noticed. He wondered if he should comment upon it.

Rebecca waited patiently for Blake to return, knowing that Severus was watching her even in her unmoving state. She had kept her look today casual, though the boots with the slight heel gave her somewhat of an added height, she thought. The clothing she'd been wearing was experimental, mostly for herself. Having worn a uniform for nearly the entirety of her time in the wizarding world gave her little chance to explore the vast wardrobe that had been purchased for her. She was going to take advantage of it.

_Let him look_, she decided. She would comment on it later if she felt he was due for some of his own medicine. He looked menacing as usual in his all-black ensemble.

Blake finally returned, packages stacked on top of one another, and set them upon the counter for her inspection. He slid a sheet of parchment and a quill toward her and explained that he would owl these items directly to the school upon their leaving so they wouldn't be laden with the burden. Rebecca nodded, thanked him, and signed the parchment upon the line.

With a final smile in the shop owner's direction, Rebecca stood straight and turned back toward the door where Severus still stood.

"All right, where is this cart with these tarts you found?" she asked.

"It has been merely a half-hour since breakfast, and already you speak of sustenance," Severus said, opening the door and stepping outward, standing before the door so she would have to exit in front of him.

She did as he intended, shooting him a look as she passed under his nose. "You promised me tarts. I expect promises to be paid."

"Very well," he said, stepping from the door and allowing it to shut behind them. "Follow me."

They began to make their way through the crowd once more, nearly becoming separated. Rebecca reached forward and grasped his forearm gently in her left hand, staying connected with him as they made their way along the busy street. Though she could not see him do it, Rebecca felt his other hand settle on top of hers, pressing her hand firmly into the crook of his elbow. She squeezed his arm in thanks as the familiar fluttering sensation appeared once more in the pit of her stomach.

They were off the busy street, and Rebecca loosened her grip, letting her hand drop to her side as she came to walk beside him. It was easier to follow his movements when she walked beside him than she originally thought it would be. His long strides made it simple to tell when he was going to turn. And it offered her a pleasing view of his movements in general.

It took only a minute for Severus to lead her to the cart, where an older witch sat upon a stool, watching the crowd go by. When she saw Severus, her eyes lit up as she stood.

"It seems the gentleman has returned for more of my treats," the witch said. "I presume you, young lady, are the one he purchased my tarts for?"

"A party and myself," Rebecca answered with a smile.

"Will you be wanting some tarts yourself? The strawberry flavoured ones?" the witch asked with a knowing smile.

"How do you know I want the strawberry flavoured tarts?"

"Your companion asked for a strawberry treat when he approached me," the witch explained. "A simple process of elimination, Miss Felan."

Rebecca smiled. She'd been curious if the woman knew of her, which meant she definitely knew who Severus was.

"I would like two dozen strawberry tarts, if you have them, please," Rebecca said.

With a nod, the older witch ducked behind her cart and began gathering Rebecca's order. She turned to face Severus.

"I don't remember telling you that I liked strawberries."

"Something I recalled when I taught you Occlumency," he said quietly.

"What else did you learn from those memories?"

"Many things," he said with a miniscule smirk.

"Hmmm…"

Rebecca looked back to the woman, who held a brown bag with her logo on its surface. "That will be ten galleons, Miss Felan."

"Here is fifteen," Rebecca said, handing the coins over to the witch.

"Very kind of you, miss." The witch gratefully took the coins and placed them into her apron, giving Rebecca a nod.

"You're very welcome. And thank you for the tarts."

Rebecca took the bag and turned from the cart, Severus on her heels. Rebecca could already feel her mouth beginning to water at the mere thought of the tarts' flavour. She spotted a familiar sign of an old bookstore, locally-owned rather than the giant bookshop where she'd always bought her school texts.

"Instead of fighting through the crowd once more, would you mind if we ducked into this bookstore?" Rebecca asked, glancing up at him.

"Do you require more texts for your limited space?" he asked.

"You're fond of muggle phrases. Here's one for you: pot, kettle, black."

Rebecca had already turned and did not see him chuckle momentarily at the abbreviated phrase.

She made for the store, not waiting for a definitive answer from him. The clerk at the counter greeted them as they entered. Rebecca bid him a good morning and went straight to the back of the store. Severus slowly followed her, watching her movements with interest. She found the older tomes immediately, setting her bag of sweets upon the ground so she might peruse the shelves more easily. From the back of the store, Severus couldn't see the front or even the clerk at the counter. The shop was not readily frequented, it seemed.

A sudden swell of emotions went through him as he gazed upon Rebecca, who now held a large book reverently in her hands, emerald eyes scanning the front cover before gingerly opening to the inside page, her finger tracing downward. He couldn't stop himself from approaching her, his footsteps slow and measured. But she was absorbed in the text, whatever it was, and did not notice him. Severus was able to stand directly behind her, looking over her shoulder.

"A book you have been searching for?" he asked, voice low and just above a whisper, not wishing to startle her.

"Sort of," she said, not even jumping.

Had she been tracking his movements this entire time? If she had, then she held no objections to his currently placement. Severus pushed his luck and his own sense of personal space as he reached around her and closed the book so he might see the cover. Rebecca stayed very still as his right arm crossed in front of her, brushing her own arm. From this angle, he would be able to do much. But he opened the book once more and removed his arm from in front of her, letting it hang once more by his side.

"An old text concerning the Patronus," he said. "An interesting choice."

"I've heard much about it," Rebecca said, closing the book and turning to face him, holding the old book firmly in both her hands. "I've wanted to own it for the past couple of years."

"Has your interest in the subject peaked in the past month?"

"Perhaps," Rebecca said, eyes flicking downward to stare at his chest as she answered. When she looked back up, his eyes were slightly narrowed, though not in a malicious manner. Suddenly, he held out his hand.

"May I?"

Rebecca handed him the book. He turned and made his way suddenly toward the front desk. She quickly stooped and picked up her bag with the tarts and followed him.

"What are you doing?"

"Purchasing a more appropriate, if belated, birthday gift for you," he said as they reached the counter. "The last one I offered you was terribly inappropriate."

He set the book upon the counter, and the clerk looked at them curiously as Rebecca put her hand upon the text.

"I'm not letting you buy this," Rebecca said.

"And I will not suffer your arguments."

The look he gave her made Rebecca shut her mouth and take her hand from the book. She waited, dumbstruck, as he purchased the book and had the clerk wrap it in a protective charm before placing it in a bag, which he then handed to Rebecca.

"Thank you," she said quietly, accepting the second bag.

He didn't make a response, instead turning to leave the shop. Rebecca looked to the store clerk, who gave her a smile.

"Thanks. Have a good day," she said automatically before following Severus outside of the shop.

They made their way back to the main street, where Severus seemed intent upon something he didn't feel the need to share with her. Her body still tingled slightly from their encounter in the bookstore. She heard her name in the din of the crowd and turned to see where it came from.

Marcus Flint approached her from the other side of the street. She felt Severus beside her just as the other boy stopped in front of her.

"Hi, Marcus," Rebecca said, forcing a polite smile to her face. She'd written her fellow Slytherin a couple of times since returning to England, but she hadn't truly wanted to see him, not since their last parting.

"Great to see you again, Rebecca," he said, reaching forward for a hug.

Unable to see a way out of it, she returned the hug awkwardly, her left hand holding onto the two packages she carried.

"Professor Snape," Marcus said, nodding to the man standing behind Rebecca. "Fancy running into the two of you here."

"Mr. Flint," Severus said with a curt nod of his own.

"I had to run some errands while beginning to stock the stores for the school," Rebecca said.

"That's right, you're trying to fill the open position for Potions at Hogwarts," Marcus said with a smile. "I'm sure you're looking forward to it."

Rebecca nodded. "I think it'll be a nice change from the pace I've been leading."

"So I've heard." He looked her over, his eyes quickly going from Severus to Rebecca before finally settling on the girl before him. "If you have no plans for lunch, maybe I can take you out and we can catch up. If you're interested, afterward the team and I were gonna get together for a bit. I could introduce you."

Rebecca didn't realize how close Severus had been standing behind her until she felt him tense minutely. Or perhaps that was her imagination. The thought of spending an inordinate amount of time with Marcus, mostly alone or with his entirely male Quidditch team, wasn't appealing. But still she smiled politely.

"I'm actually scheduled up today," she said. "Could I owl you? I'm a bit behind already. I was planning a get-together with my friends next weekend, and I know Draco would like to see you again."

Flint's head moved just slightly, as if thinking. "Yeah, that sounds fine, Becca. I'll expect your owl…?"

"Tomorrow. Promise."

"All right. Great." He reached forward once more, his hug this time tighter than the first. Rebecca gave him another awkward one-armed hug, quickly pulling away.

"Talk to you tomorrow, Becca. Good day, Professor Snape," Marcus said, smiling at Rebecca and nodding at Severus once more. He turned and made his way back into the crowd, looking fairly pleased.

Rebecca turned around in time to catch the fleeting traces of anger upon Severus' face. She didn't comment.

"Let's head back to the castle," she said, loud enough for him to easily hear her. "I've had enough of the crowd for today."

He didn't respond, choosing to set his feet in the appropriate direction and walking quickly enough for his robes to billow. Rebecca followed behind him at an easy pace, letting him part the people in the street with his imposing looks.

Their trek back to the castle was a tense silence, though not on Rebecca's part. Severus slipped back into his usual surly self rather easily, she noticed. By the time they'd reached the dungeons, she'd already had enough of it. She expected him to continue onto his own quarters as she opened her own door, but as soon as she muttered the password, he pushed the door open and swept in before her, standing in the center of her living area and waiting while she walked in after him, shutting the door. Rebecca didn't look at him until she'd set down all of her bags.

"You are not required to turn down offers from Mr. Flint simply because of my presence," he said before her hair had even settled from her ruffling it. "Certainly you would enjoy accompanying him the remainder of the day."

"Excuse me?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"I will remind you that you are my apprentice and should not be spending as much time as you do upon your personal life," Severus said, his tone growing graver by the moment. "Perhaps next weekend I should have you brewing to better prepare you. You have less than twenty days before your examination."

Rebecca blinked. "Severus, I didn't want to go with Marcus. Just because you were there didn't mean I was making up excuses to not spend time with him for your benefit."

Severus' lips were extremely thin, but other than that his face was expressionless. Rebecca watched him before shaking her head, turning toward the table to lift up the bag with the tarts in it.

"If all you're going to do is glare at me, you can leave," she said. "I don't know what your problem is."

She carefully extracted the tarts from the bag, pretending as though he wasn't there. She set the box on the table and folded the bag, setting it beside the box. When she stood up straight the next time, he moved toward her, and she turned to face him, prepared to snap if necessary. But his expression was more relaxed as he stared at her, so she stopped the words before they reached her lips.

"Would you care to explain why this particular text so interests you?" he asked, his voice somewhat tense, but level.

Rebecca considered him for a moment before nodding. "It has a theory that's considerably controversial, but I think it has merit. I like things that are different."

"So I have noticed. But the theory I am, regrettably, unfamiliar with."

"Robards writes that a person's Patronus is not simply a spirit guardian chosen by the caster's personality, but because the Patronus is a representation of the caster's soul. It can only be accessed by happy memories because that is when the caster is at his or her most vulnerable because they are at ease in the memory and accept it so whole-heartedly as happy. Thus, the Patronus forms the animal representation of one's soul."

Rebecca picked up the book and walked around the table, sitting upon the sofa and placing the book on her lap. Severus thought about her explanation before walking around the table and sitting beside Rebecca, leaving a few inches between them.

"What would be the purpose in the animal representation of the caster's soul?" he asked.

"As far as my understanding goes of Robards' theory, it helps showcase your willingness to change, tells those who see your Patronus about you, and aids in finding one's mate, as the animal representations would do in nature."

"How does Robards explain the phenomenon of the Patronus changing?" Severus asked.

"It depends upon, obviously, the person's soul and how welcome it is to change. This willingness to change will be shown in the person's first Patronus."

She opened the book to the glossary, her finger traveling down the page quickly. When she found what she was looking for, Rebecca carefully flipped to the page.

"Here," she said, sliding the book closer to Severus so he could also see the page. "Robards lists the different animal representations and their possible meanings, or at least his interpretations of their meanings. While most representations that are in the canine family are less likely to change, the fox is different. The fox is clever, crafty, and more open to change in order to survive."

She glanced up and found Severus reading the page intently, brows furrowed as his own hand came down to rest upon the opposite page. His pinky fell off the page, now lying upon her thigh. Rebecca stopped herself from flinching at the unexpected touch.

"The wolf," Severus said, his eyes scanning the page as he read, "is a pack creature. The person who casts a wolf as their Patronus will find solace once their own pack is formed. The larger the wolf formed in the Patronus, the more leadership ability the caster has and the more likely the caster is to be the central figure, or alpha, of his or her own pack. The wolf can overcome many obstacles as long as its pack is cohesive. The wolf is not as likely to change for others, but affects others in a way that they would like to change in order to become a part of the wolf's pack."

Slowly, Severus looked to his right. Rebecca was still staring down at the page, but his even gaze finally had her meeting his eyes.

"This certainly explains much," Severus said.

The smile that graced her features, as small as the gesture was, accentuated the light blush upon her cheeks.

"I haven't changed you," Rebecca said, folding her hands together. She watched the way her fingers intertwined, then glanced back at him.

"I have changed somewhat because I have desired to. However, as loathe as I am to admit it… I find myself changing because of a certain young woman."

"I never wanted to change you," Rebecca said, her voice quiet.

"I realize this. You will be pleased to discover, then, that I am still the surly bat of the dungeons."

"You're not a bat," Rebecca said, smirking.

"No," he said, closing the book.

He slid it from her lap and placed it on the table, turning back to her.

"I am now, it would seem, a wolf."

Rebecca's eyes could not stay focused on one spot. She first looked at her lap, then at his face, then to the table, and back to him again quickly.

"How does this change suit you?"

"I believe that I shall grow accustomed to a pack, albeit a very small one, in time."

Severus sat beside her, an inch of space separating them. His hand reached up to brush her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers combed through the rest of her hair, finally coming to rest at her neck. The action sent shivers up Rebecca's spine.

"I find myself pleased that I did not force you to part with your locks." His voice was a low grumble in his chest. "They are lovely."

"Thank you."

He seemed content to let the silence fall over them and simply look at her, as if she held some secret he was trying to force out of her through sheer willpower.

"You're going to need to tell me what you want at some point, Severus," Rebecca said, heart practically in her throat. "I'm not going to—"

He pressed even closer, his hand on the back of her neck pulling her face upward. He stopped her before his face, their noses just touching. Rebecca's heart resounded in her ears, each beat a "thud" that drowned out all other noises. His eyes searched hers before his brows furrowed.

"You are afraid," he said, his voice still rumbling in his chest.

"I don't want you to hurt me again."

"I will not make you any guarantees," he said. "I am a harsh man."

"I know."

"Then push your limits further." His black eyes grew intensely bright, and the fingers on the back of her neck moved against her skin, setting it to tingling.

Rebecca licked her lips quickly, then shook her head slightly. "It's your turn to do that, Severus."

"Very well."

The grip upon her neck loosened, and she thought he was going to pull away from her. Just as she looked down, Severus bent his head, causing Rebecca to glance upward once more. His lips hovered over hers, uncertain, the hand upon the back of her neck gently kneading her skin. Fingers crept up the back of her skull, and Rebecca felt it throughout her entire body, acutely aware of his every move. His hand pulling her the final tiny distance, Rebecca's lips met Severus' in a tight embrace.

Immediately, his arm wrapped about her waist, pulling her against him as his lips moved against hers. Rebecca was trapped, feeling the heat from his body surrounding her in a way she'd never imagined. Her lips moved with his, trying to keep up. Already he was pressing his tongue forward, seeking entrance. She granted it. Quick breathes went in and out of his nose as he pressed her closer to him. Rebecca's arms were pinned tightly between their two bodies, and she pushed them against his chest when she felt overwhelmed by his sudden physical release.

He broke the kiss when she pressed more firmly against his chest, but his hand remained curled in her hair, his other arm wrapped around her, holding her firmly against him.

"Please let go," Rebecca whispered through her deep breaths.

She could feel him trembling as he held her to him. It could have been her own trembling as well.

"You do not trust me," he said, voice gravelly.

"You've seen my memory," she said, her chest still heaving. "You know that's not true."

His grip loosened, and Rebecca pulled away. The hand curled in her hair let go, though his fingers trailed through her tendrils as he let go, and he reveled in the sensation. Rebecca was finally able to catch her breath with the few inches now between them.

Severus watched her as she reached forward and took him by the front of his robes and pulled him forward. Her lips pressed gently against his once more. She lingered for a moment before pulling away, hands still upon his robes.

"Thank you for understanding," she said.

"There is little else I could do," he replied, eyes searching her face.

"I didn't think you—"

"Enough time has been devoted to my own stubbornness," Severus said.

Rebecca gave a half-smile. "Next time, warn me before you pin me down."

"As I said previously: I make no guarantees."

Rebecca patted his chest with her hand before pulling away. He still held himself rigidly, though if he were currently feeling any sort of emotion, his voice didn't show it.

"You do realize that this will ultimately change nothing until your Mastery is settled."

Rebecca nodded. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone about anything. It's none of their business what's between us or not."

"You have had enough notoriety."

"I didn't desire it in the first place."

"Excepting, of course, your stunt earlier this year concerning the former Granger and Weasley."

"That was different," Rebecca said, giving him a sideways glance.

"Because, certainly, you were in a much better state to handle the criticism that could possibly have followed after having your letter published."

"It wouldn't have mattered what they'd said about me. I'm used to hearing false rumours about myself. Hermione and Ginny didn't deserve any of the slander."

"So you were more deserving of it because you had grown accustomed to it."

Rebecca turned to look at him and saw, finally, how straight-backed he was against the sofa. A hand clenched either of his knees tightly. His lip twitched slightly, but the rest of his face gave away nothing.

"I know that it was a stupid move. But I'm not going to jeopardize my future at this job."

The grip upon his hands slackened minutely. But his gaze in her direction was still tense.

"And I don't want to threaten us… whatever we decide to become," Rebecca said.

A curt nod, and the rest of his movements normalized. "You will allow me to borrow your book once you've read it to your satisfaction?"

"Of course."

"Perhaps then I will be able to formulate my own theory for this particular situation," Severus said, standing. "I am going for a stroll before lunch. Do not be alarmed if I am tardy."

"All right."

Without so much as a glance back, Severus exited her quarters. Rebecca stared at the closed door for nearly a minute, playing the scene over and over in her mind. The kiss had been intense, passionate, and overwhelming for her. Pent-up emotions were fully exposed in those few moments, and all she could do was simply exist as he bowled her over. But he had gone right back to reserved, if tense.

Strangely, her first instinct wasn't to seek out one of her friends' opinions on the subject. She wanted to keep this to herself—a selfish desire. A smile slowly crept up her lips. Certainly there weren't many women who could claim to have induced Severus Snape into a passionate-fueled kiss.

Her smile faded quickly as she wondered why he would be taking a walk. To clear his head, most likely, and to think over what had just happened. But would he still stand by his actions once he'd returned? After lunch, under the gaze of four of his colleagues?

Rebecca took in a deep, slow breath and let it out. Thinking like that wasn't going to help anything. She pulled her recently reacquired confidence, though it was still miniscule compared to what it had been previously, and wrapped it around her mind. He would decide what he would, and she would let him pursue her. She'd done enough chasing, enough letting down of her defenses. And in doing so, she had nearly lost herself—not just because of Severus' rebuke of her, but because of the culmination of everything. The more he gave of himself, the more he'd receive of her in return. They both had much to learn, she realized, and maybe even more to give to one another in return. No matter how she looked at it, however, the task was daunting.

She called for a house elf to discover where the potions store's supplies had been put. The owl containing the supplies had been taken by one of the house elves already and placed in Potions classroom, so that was where she went, unpacking and organizing to reflect the way the storage room in the private laboratory was set up. She was finished just before lunch, and entered the Great Hall, the second person to arrive beside Flitwick.

"Rebecca," the little man said, "how was your trip to Diagon Alley this morning?"

"Fruitful," she answered, taking a seat beside him, leaving the one on the other side of her open. "I obtained some good ingredients _and_ more strawberry tarts like the ones at Harry's party."

"They were quite delicious," Flitwick said with a nod. "I'm surprised Severus has not yet joined us."

"I believe he went out for a while," she said. "I was rearranging the stores in the Potions classroom, so I haven't seen him."

Minerva was the next to join them, then Hagrid, and finally Poppy. They were all nearly half-way through their meals when Severus finally entered the hall. He took his customary seat beside Rebecca, and a full plate of food appeared before him.

"Rebecca was just telling us of her adventures in Diagon Alley," Minerva said. "Apparently she ran into Marcus Flint and is going to make plans with him next weekend."

"Along with some other friends," Rebecca quickly added with a look in Minerva's direction.

"Fascinating," Severus said, placing the cloth napkin in his lap. He glanced at Rebecca. "I assume the stores have been set up as I've instructed?"

Rebecca nodded. "I just finished. I'll return to the Apothecary every weekend to check their supplies."

He gave a curt nod in return before he began to help himself to his own lunch. Minerva turned to Rebecca.

"What were you planning on doing next weekend, dear?"

"I'm not certain yet. But something tells me it might revolve around Quidditch, seeing as it'll be the Potters, the Weasleys, Draco and Astoria, and now Marcus and me."

"If that were the case, you should use the Quidditch Pitch and our supplies," Minerva said. "Even if it's just a friendly game, it will give us a chance to make sure everything is in working order."

"I don't think there will be enough for two full teams," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

"Certainly not. But enough for a smaller game, perhaps. I'm certain if you invited just a couple more of your friends, you would have a good match on your hands. And it would give us something to watch."

"It'd be great!" Hagrid called from his seat at the end of the table. "I'm sure George would like an invite."

"I'll run it by them and let you know by Monday," Rebecca said, barely able to stop from clenching her jaw.

She didn't like Quidditch very much, and Hermione wasn't any different. But they would undoubtedly be forced to play. And she would have to be on Marcus' team. It would be Gryffindor versus Slytherin all over again, and she had a suspicion it would be anything but friendly.

"If our prospective Potions Mistress is harmed during this _friendly_ match, Minerva, I will be severely displeased."

Severus hadn't even bothered to look up from his plate. Minerva's lips thinned.

"Then perhaps you should referee the match, Severus."

"I was _not_ volunteering."

"Then maybe you should, seeing as you are so concerned for Rebecca's health."

Finally, the man looked to the Headmistress slowly. "How are the other candidates measuring up, Minerva?"

The elder witch was silent, glaring at Severus from over her spectacles on the edge of her nose.

"As I suspected," Severus said. "Now you understand why I dislike the frivolousness of this situation."

Silence fell over the table when Severus turned back to his lunch. Rebecca didn't let it settle overly much on the staff members.

"I don't suspect we'll need a ref," she said. "But if we invite George, that will make the teams uneven in any case. Hermione won't need to play if she won't want to. She'll be able to keep us in line if necessary from the stands. If this even happens, of course."

"Well, let me know, Rebecca, and I will break out the Quidditch supplies."

"Thank you."

She left the Great Hall a few minutes after that, having finished her lunch, and returned to her quarters. Rebecca had just started reading the first chapter of her new book when a knock came upon her door. She leaned her head back against the couch.

"Come in!"

Severus entered, and Rebecca didn't find herself surprised. She closed the book and set it beside her on the sofa. He simply looked at her for a while, arms hanging at his sides and his hands clenched into the beginnings of fists.

"Yes?" Rebecca asked.

"I am unaccustomed to feelings of possession."

Rebecca felt her eyebrows creeping upward at his statement. "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at."

"I dislike Flint."

"Well, either don't show up or don't react to him. I honestly don't understand his infatuation with me."

"I cannot believe that I am about to speak these words, but… I do."

Rebecca stood and began to approach him, hand held out in front of her. "Let me feel your forehead. I think you're running a fever."

Severus rolled his eyes. When Rebecca drew closer, he gently took her by the wrist and lowered her hand.

"I am _not_ being sarcastic."

"You should really go see Poppy. If your fever gets out of hand, you might suffer brain damage."

His grip tightened suddenly upon her wrist, and Rebecca met his gaze.

"Sorry," she said, looking down as he dropped her wrist.

"I will attend this silly game should anything amiss occur."

"It's just going to be a friendly—"

"When has anything between Slytherin and Gryffindor been friendly, Rebecca?"

"I was trying to be hopeful. These are all of my friends, after all."

"Yes, and all quite thick-headed in their own rights."

"Something you and Harry have in common sometimes."

"Potter and I are completely different."

"Not as much as you'd like to think. You both dislike Flint, too."

"Forgive me if I am disinterested in becoming chummy with the Boy Who Lived."

Rebecca snorted, shaking her head. "You have to admit you're pretty ridiculous sometimes."

"I have not done anything illogical that should give you cause to think so."

"Besides kissing me, you mean."

Severus didn't say anything.

"Or when you suddenly decided to have me show you I know how to shower before entering the lab. Or when you read Jamie's letter. Should I go on?"

"Your point is taken."

"It _is_ okay to admit that you're human," Rebecca said, looking up at him.

Severus gazed down upon her from his superior height. "It has been quite some time since someone has told me such a thing."

"Who was the last?"

"Lily."

"Albus never told you that? But I thought—"

"Albus thought it pathetic that I tried to deny my humanity to the world. Even still, he had his own way to show me the respect I was due… on occasion."

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably, trying to think how to respond. "Well, I think if you were to ask most people today, they couldn't deny you of your humanity."

"The sentiment is appreciated, but I have to disagree with you."

"Then they're all dunderheads," Rebecca said.

"It is good you are finally coming to this conclusion after I have been stating the fact for so many years."

"You shouldn't think of yourself like that, Severus."

He looked as though he would respond, but suddenly seemed to think better of it. Instead, he decided to veer the conversation off into a completely different direction.

"I was planning on reading in my study until dinner. Should you wish to continue reading your own text, now would be a good time… if you wished to join me."

"I would."

He nodded, then turned to exit her quarters. Rebecca retrieved her book and followed him.

When she entered the study, Severus was picking a text off the shelf. She settled in the chair left of the small table in the center of the room, just a few feet from him. Severus didn't seem to take any notice of her and didn't seem to act as though they'd just had the conversation that they had. He took his own seat. She turned her attention back to her book, enjoying the comfortable quiet and the well-lit area.

It had been about two hours before either of them spoke. Rebecca was surprised that he was the first to do so.

"It is the full moon tomorrow night," he said.

Rebecca looked up from the page she was on and turned to him. "I know."

"The lake inhabitants are generally more active during the full moon, especially with the season change so close at hand."

Rebecca sat up in her chair, not realising that she had been slumping. "I bet that's lovely."

"Perhaps you might wish to sit outdoors after dinner for a while. With me."

"I would like that."

Severus nodded, then turned back to his book. Rebecca stared at him for a while longer before doing the same, though her mind could hardly focus upon the words on the pages. The hours crept by after that, and Rebecca finished her book just before dinner. She crossed the short distance between them and held the text out to Severus. He glanced up from his own reading and accepted the book.

"I will be certain to return it to you in its original condition."

"I have no doubts of that." Rebecca smiled gently.

* * *

"There was a time / I was everything and nothing all in one. / When you found me, / I was feeling like a cloud across the sun. / I need to tell you / How you light up every second of the day. / But in the moonlight, / You just shine like a beacon on the bay. / And I can't explain, / But it's something about the way you look tonight— / Takes my breath away. / It's that feeling I get about you, deep inside. / And I can't describe, / But it's something about the way you look tonight— / Takes my breath away. / The way you look tonight. / With a smile, / You pull the deepest secrets from my heart. / In all honesty, / I'm speechless and I don't know where to start." –"Something About the Way You Look Tonight" Elton John

_The Full Moon, August 5, 1999_

Rebecca spent the morning writing back and forth with Harry, Ginny, Ron (and through him, George), Hermione, and Draco, planning out the coming weekend's activities. Only after things had been settled and approved by all did she muster up the strength to owl Marcus. She arrived at lunch early, but as soon as she took her seat, Severus next entered the Great Hall. He took his seat beside her.

"Did you sleep well?" Rebecca asked.

"As much as those with our afflictions can," Severus replied evenly. "Yourself?"

Rebecca shrugged. "About the same. Did you read the text at all?"

"Through the third chapter. I find myself intrigued thus far and am hopeful Robards can continue to keep me in this state."

Rebecca smiled. "Severus Snape hopeful."

"Quite surprised, I am certain. However, it does occur on occasion."

His head turned and their gazes met. Severus' features softened momentarily. Then the doors to the Great Hall opened. His mask slipped firmly into place once more, as if the war had never ended, and he turned back to his plate, which was now full.

Lunch went by quickly, and the two returned to the dungeons together. Severus stood extremely close behind Rebecca just as she was about to open her door. She paused instead, waiting to see what he would do. He simply stood there, nose buried in her hair, but did not touch her.

"Tell me," he said, "does Robards have a part of his theory dedicated to scent?"

"No," she answered, smiling.

"A pity. I may have to pen one of my own."

Rebecca opened her door and stepped in, turning to find Severus did not move from how he'd stood behind her.

"You can come in, if you'd like."

He stepped over the threshold. That afternoon, over tea and then over nothing, Rebecca explained the details of the "friendly" Quidditch match that would take place the following Saturday. Severus didn't appear happy about it, but listened nonetheless. When there was a lull in the conversation, he spoke up once more.

"What have you been telling your Minister about your time here?"

"He knows everything," Rebecca said.

Severus stared at her.

"Well, not _this_. But he knows about the Potions exam, the position, the agreement Minerva and I have reached concerning it."

"His reaction could not have been so calm."

"It was, actually. I was a bit surprised myself that he took it so well. He knows that I am interested in the position, that I have been studying, and I plan on taking the examination before my time is through here. He also knows I'm reserving judgment after the examination."

"Have you given Smith cause to believe you will return to America?"

"I've been neutral, which he's accustomed to. I laid out the outcomes for my staying and my returning, and he agrees to both."

"I cannot believe that it was that simple for him."

"Jamie would take over should I stay, and others would simply move up. I gave recommendations, and he agreed with my assessments. If I return, things simply stay the same, and I will sign a different contract."

This gave Severus pause. His brows furrowed. "What type of contract?"

"The permanent kind."

"I thought you did not enjoy your work there."

"I enjoy it enough."

Another pause.

"Have my reactions at all changed your way of thinking since your arrival?" Severus asked.

Rebecca looked down at the couch, her hand draped casually over the arm of it. "Somewhat."

"Will you remain here?"

"I have not definitively decided."

It took much more effort than Severus would have imagined to not make a face at her reply.

"Why is that?" he asked, lips thinning.

"Honestly, because I'm not entirely certain this is any more than a ploy to get me to stay. Because my staying benefits you, as you then won't have to revert to Potions Master."

Severus found himself without a thought momentarily. Soon, words found him once more.

"I was not aware that this is what you thought of me."

"You taught me to be more cautious of people. Particularly where you're concerned. And I've always been a Slytherin. I see ulterior motives everywhere and probably always will. Just as you always have."

"A valid point."

"I hope this doesn't sway your plans for us this evening," Rebecca said.

"Not at the moment, no."

"Good. I was looking forward to it."

"And so you can spend more time with me to further determine whether or not I am continuing my mastermind-like ways."

"I would have stopped at spending more time with you, but I suppose I'll also be doing that subconsciously." She smiled.

"I suppose I should be proud that I have taught you such cautiousness," Severus said. "However, at the time I am merely annoyed by it."

Rebecca shrugged. "There are many things we both need to overcome."

"Indeed."

The rest of the afternoon before dinner they spent apart. Severus had taken his leave without another word after this part of their conversation. But she didn't feel regret sinking into her like it may have previously. He could not be too angry, after all, if he wanted to continue with their plans.

Dinner was a normal affair, and Rebecca received an affirmative response from Marcus. He would be in attendance that Saturday and would borrow the practice brooms his team used to give to those who did not have their own. It was a kind gesture, and Rebecca knew it was an attempt to impress her. She tucked the letter into her pocket.

"I'll respond to him tomorrow," she said to Minerva.

She and Severus descended once more to the dungeons. At the foot of the stairs she stopped.

"I'll help you gather things together, if you want," she said.

"I will be along momentarily," Severus said.

Rebecca nodded. "I'll wait a while longer before picking out a spot. Just to give Hagrid some more time to get back to his hut."

"Very well," Severus said, then turned and walked down the corridor.

So Rebecca set out for the lake, still wondering about the events of the last twenty-four hours. This had to be some sort of effort he was putting into his personality and even his words. Rebecca couldn't help but think this was too good to be true, the cautious part of her still working overtime. She walked out onto the grounds and began toward the lake, making sure to pick a spot that had a good bit of foliage blocking the view of the castle. She waited, watching the way the light of the nearly-set sun bounced off the tiny waves upon the lake.

The sun had sunk the remainder of the way behind the horizon by the time she heard someone approaching her. Rebecca turned to see Severus carrying a small basket.

"Are you certain you're not running a fever?" she asked.

"Your ability to turn the most serious of situations into a joking matter may be endearing on occasion, but this is not one of those times," Severus said, though his tone was not harsh.

Rebecca took a step back as he set the basket upon the ground and opened it. "I was beginning to think you'd sent me out here to get me away from you."

"Even if I had, I would not have been rid of you quite so easily," Severus replied, his hand extracting a large blanket.

He stood and flicked his wrists, causing the blanket to flair outward. Severus brought it down upon the ground.

"I will allow you the difficult task of spreading it out properly," he said.

"Just a ploy so I can't see what else is in your basket," Rebecca said as she knelt. Her hands pushed the edges of the blanket out evenly upon the ground.

"Clever, perhaps, but no. I simply cannot perform the action adequately."

Rebecca finished making sure the blanket was as flat as it was going to get before looking back up at him.

"Have you even _thought_ about getting physical therapy or anything for your knee?" she asked.

"It does not cause me more trouble than anyone's knees might," he said. "However, I refrain more from certain tasks than others might, and that suits me well enough."

He placed the basket on the upper right-hand corner of the blanket before moving to take a seat. Rebecca smiled when she watched him lower himself more carefully, as she had when they'd gone out in the forest to pick mushrooms. She waited until he was settled before sitting upon the blanket beside him, keeping the distance between them.

The light around them lessened more quickly than Rebecca had anticipated. Neither of them spoke, however, not feeling the need to break the quiet, cool night air. It was perhaps a half-hour before she felt Severus move beside her. She glanced to her left and found him watching her, though his gaze wasn't extremely intense. Curious was how she would describe it. She turned her head the rest of the way.

"If you are willing to answer," he said, "I find myself curious about your circumstances in America."

"And about Jamie," Rebecca said.

A long pause. "Yes. About him as well."

Rebecca crossed her legs before her, sighing as she thought on where to begin. "It was difficult in the beginning. But I came when spirits were already high. The fourth of July is America's Independence Day, and it's a big deal in Washington, D.C., so everyone was feeling overly patriotic already, or so I've determined." She shrugged. "In any case, I was only well-received by the Minister and Jamie, but even he kept his distance from me for a while to try and understand my character."

Severus nodded. "I am aware that the American Ministry's Department of Aurors is comprised mostly of men."

"I was one of maybe ten women," Rebecca said. "I'm not sure they entirely meant to act how they did, but I was disrespected a bit when I first arrived. Like I explained to you earlier, I wore my scars and Mark openly starting my second week. The dueling practices helped somewhat, but after being in the field and showing that I did, in fact, know what I was doing, things settled down."

"And Turner?"

"After the Halloween Ball, which I'm sure you heard all about from Brauer, Jamie and I became close. But I never felt anything more for him than I did for Harry, Ron, or even Draco." She paused. "But I wanted to."

She saw Severus look straight ahead, his eyes looking across the lake. Another half-hour, and she wouldn't be able to see him at all.

"To spite you, to prove that I could, I don't know," Rebecca said. "But I couldn't. And neither could he. Jamie was concerned with not being able to find a woman who respected and cared for him, not for his looks or his position in the wizarding world. He wanted us to kiss to see if it would change our opinions at all."

"Did it?"

Rebecca was startled by how rough his voice had become in those two words.

"No," she said. "I was still too scared of such intimate contact then. And it felt nothing like the times we had kissed, just as I told Jamie. Even those circumstances, as terrifying and strange as they were… I don't know, Severus. I love Jamie like I love Harry. It couldn't be anything more than that."

He did not respond to her claims. Rebecca watched him carefully, noticing that he was leaning back on his hands, stretching out upon the blanket. His legs were long enough that his heels rested upon the grass.

"How would you say your mental state is since returning?" he asked.

"I'm feeling much more like my old self," she said. "Minus most of the arrogance and self-righteousness."

"Those particular traits I will not grieve for."

Rebecca smiled. "I think I was mimicking you in order to protect myself from everything around me."

"The self-righteousness you did not obtain from observing me," Severus said, shaking his head.

"No, that was my own insecurities coming out in a feeling of certainty," Rebecca replied. "The arrogance I definitely got from you."

Severus snorted. "Or from your Gryffindor friends."

"Either way, I'll keep those traits under wraps until they're needed again."

"Let us hope that is never," Severus responded dryly.

"Even at my worst, I still think you liked me just a little bit," Rebecca said. "Just as I somehow felt for you, even though I shouldn't have."

"You were more pleasurable company than the Death Eaters."

"That's hardly fair."

"And my colleagues, who then hated me."

"You know, I think you just brought me out here to insult me some more," Rebecca said, her tone light. She smiled, but she wasn't sure if he could see that.

"Certainly. It is much more entertaining to insult you on the grounds than from the comfort of my own armchair."

Rebecca chuckled, looking once more out onto the lake. The moon, she could see, was beginning to peek out from between the trees, though it was still extremely low in the skies.

"Perhaps you'll answer my own questions," Rebecca said, turning back to look at him. "When did you know?"

"The night before I forced you to expedite your training."

"I'm not sure I follow the logic there."

"I believed that if you could successfully complete that portion of your training, your confidence would return to you and you would discover that you did not need to settle yourself upon thinking you felt any sort of affection for me."

"I guess I can see how that would make sense."

"Yes. However, you fucked up my plans." His head turned, and she could vaguely make out his neutral features.

"Well, I'm not apologizing for it."

"I did not purport to have a complaint."

"Before that, then. Did you even think on it?"

She saw his jaw clench as he turned away from her once more. "When the name _Marcus Flint_ passed your lips."

"I thought you were mad because he was so high-profile."

"It was the most obvious reason. However, I am certain now that no matter the name you spoke that night, I would have found something to oppose."

"Were you thinking along those lines when you punched the mirror?"

"That particular action I learned from you," he said.

"Yes, but I'd been comparing myself to Lily when I punched the mirror. I never thought I could live up to her."

He turned so quickly, was pressing his hand against her cheek within a moment and bringing her face close to his. His hooked nose nearly touched her smaller, petite nose.

"You share blood," he said. "And she was a great Potions brewer, like you. The comparisons end there."

Rebecca nodded hastily. Severus stared intently at her for another moment before pulling away, retreating to his side of the blanket. She waited for him to break the silence this time, unsure of how to proceed since his outburst.

"I believed myself to be above jealousy after all of these years," Severus said quietly. "However, the mere thought of my plan succeeding and you pursuing another drove me to that particular reaction."

Rebecca shifted into a more comfortable sitting position upon the blanket. The moon was nearing the top of the trees.

"I never desired to be a man of violence. That was, however, the path that my life inevitably lead me down, partially because of my own doings and partially because of what I found myself stupidly getting into. Your assessments of my nature are correct. I never wished to harm you, no matter how frightening I may have attempted to appear."

"Even the night I confessed to not sleeping with Flint?"

"That night forced me to feel a number of emotions I had been certain I could have no longer felt. I wanted to hold you and strangle you at the same time. But, I believe, had you gotten into my arms instead of smartly shoving me away, it would have been the former."

Rebecca looked down, thinking on everything that had been said within the past few minutes. She toed off her shoes and pulled off her socks, stuffing them inside of her shoes. Her feet she then rested in the grass as she looked out over the lake. Already, she could see the giant squid surfacing.

"I never thought you'd have so much to say on this particular subject," she said, looking back to Severus.

"Perhaps it is time that I begin surprising you."

"Mission accomplished," Rebecca said with a smirk. "Any more surprises and I might have a heart attack."

"Then I should not tell you that I've brought alcohol."

"Then I would simply assume you brought me out here with specific intentions concerning my person."

"I would counter that it would be inappropriate for me to disregard your wishes so flippantly. And directly in the open as well. Not extremely romantic."

"I hadn't even fooled myself into thinking you would be this romantic."

"This?" Severus asked. She could barely see his eyebrow rising in surprise.

"Full moon. On the grounds. Alcohol."

"And wine glasses," Severus said, handing her an empty one.

"And wine glasses," Rebecca replied. "Talking about emotions. This isn't romantic?"

"While I understand your logic, it was my thinking that you would enjoy the sight of the merpeople and the squid interacting as they do on the full moon. And it was then my thinking that the sight would be more wondrous to behold with wine, though I admit I enjoy more things when there is wine."

Rebecca laughed. Severus held the wine bottle in one hand as he flicked his wand with the other. The cork obeyed his spell, rewarding them with a "pop!" Severus set his wand down, and the cork fell to the ground. He picked it up and placed it inside the basket. Rebecca held her glass out to him, and Severus cupped the edge of her glass to make certain he poured the wine into it. He let go of her glass and Rebecca retracted it to take a sip. The wine was sweet, and not too dry.

She looked out upon the lake again. The moon was now just coming up over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, beginning to light up more of the lake. When Rebecca glanced at Severus once more, she could see him much more easily. He took a sip from his own wine glass.

Rebecca held her glass toward him. "To the lovely evening. Thank you."

He touched his glass to hers. "You are welcome." His smile was faint, but it did not vanish as quickly as this expression usually did. "You should watch. They will start soon."

Rebecca nodded, turning once more to face the lake, which was approximately fifty yards away. The squid had completely surfaced by now. Heads appeared above the surface of the water, and Rebecca watched curiously as the squid reached out for the merpeople. She gasped when the squid lifted one of the merpeople from the water and threw it across the lake. The merperson created a fairly large splash in the center of the lake. After a moment, it rose above the surface once more, waving its arms and making a noise Rebecca could only determine as being happy. She laughed.

"What're they doing?"

"Playing has been my best guess," Severus answered. "In any case, both parties seem to derive enjoyment from whatever this interaction signifies."

"It does look like a lot of fun," Rebecca said as she watched another merperson get thrown through the air and land in the center of the lake.

"I would not get any ideas of joining them. Only Albus ever had any connection with the merpeople."

"Has anyone else been able to speak to them?"

Another merperson flew through the air, shrieking with delight.

"Merish is a very difficult language to learn."

"If Albus could do it, I'm sure someone else could."

"Perhaps you, if you desired," Severus said before taking a sip from his glass. "But I would not suggest attempting such a feat your first year of teaching."

"Why not?"

"You will be so exhausted at the end of each day you will curse your students for turning in their homework for you to grade."

"It can't be that bad."

"Considering that your last two years were much more difficult than most students', I can imagine why you would say that. But I would allot extra time to yourself on the weekends once the term begins."

"I'll probably take that advice," Rebecca said, sipping on her own wine.

They watched the merpeople and the squid for a while, neither feeling the need to insert talk into the playful scene. Rebecca laughed every so often. She even heard Severus let out a chuckle every once in a while. She set her empty glass beside her after a while, then leaned back upon her elbows and lay out upon the blanket.

Once it appeared all the merpeople had gotten their turn being flung across the lake, the squid sunk mostly back into the water. The merpeople encircled the creature and lifted their hands up. Rebecca watched as the merpeople appeared to scratch all over the squid, who made a sound akin to a purring cat, so low that she could feel it rumble in her bones even from this far away. She smiled.

The two spectators remained quiet throughout the scene. Finally, the merpeople began disappearing. Soon, the squid also sunk beneath the surface of the water. Rebecca continued to smile, feeling content with the silence and the peaceful and happy coexistence she'd just witnessed.

Her head turned when she felt fingers running through the ends of her hair.

"I'm starting to think you have an obsession with my hair," she said quietly.

"I admit that it is quite stunning, particularly in the moonlight."

Severus lay upon his side, also propped up on his elbow, while his free hand continued to stroke her hair. His plans were so far off-base now. Everything that he thought he had desired even a few days ago had simply left his mind. She had not pushed him away, even as she should have done, even as he should have told her to do. Over and over, he was drawn to her. But he found he couldn't force himself away, not yet.

Rebecca looked over his face as he continued to stroke her hair gently. She'd never imagined him to be this tender. But she supposed his actions could also be nervousness or uncertainness. Somehow, those didn't seem to pinpoint what this was.

She stopped thinking when Severus began to slowly lean toward her. His hand trailing through her hair stopped once more at her cheek. His kiss was chaste, simply pressing against her lips. Rebecca's eyes closed at the sensation he created within her. He hovered over her, trying not to cover her body or force her to lean back. The soft sound of their lips pressing together over and over was the only thing he could hear. Whereas his first kiss was full of his pent-up feelings, this one he would take his time with.

He was surprised when her tongue traced his lower lip. Severus opened his mouth to allow her entrance, and their tongues entwined slowly. After a minute of the slow progression of their explorations, Severus placed his free hand on the other side of her. His upper body was over hers, but so far her actions had not slowed or changed.

Rebecca could feel him moving. She opened her eyes slightly, not breaking their contact otherwise, and began to lean backward, lifting her arm to rest against his cheek. Soon, she was flat on her back with Severus' upper body over hers. She didn't feel any panic trying to set in and let her senses focus entirely upon him.

Severus lost himself in the kiss, so much so he let himself sink on top of her, letting their chests press together. Anything to get closer to her. Unusual that he, who shunned all others' touch, could not get enough of hers.

He sunk down upon her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. Their chests pressed against one another, and she could feel his weight pushing her into the ground. Her rhythm faltered for a second, but she forced herself to keep going. He would not hurt her. This was different, pleasant, something she had wanted. But she found herself breaking the kiss, unable to breathe, and pushing against his chest.

Severus opened his eyes to find Rebecca in a near state of panic. He felt his jaw clenching as he quickly pushed himself up onto one elbow again, allowing her breathing room. As he watched the panic slowly ebb from her face, Severus thought of Shacklebolt's response. He would have to tell her, but not tonight. Soon.

"I tried not to—"

"It is not your fault," he said firmly.

Rebecca sat up, no longer wanting to be lying before him. She focused on putting her footwear back on her feet, feeling Severus' gaze upon her while she did so. He sat up as she pulled on her second shoe. She felt his hand upon her shoulder.

"You have overcome much this summer. These things take time."

"It's been four years," she said.

"That was an extremely traumatic night," Severus answered. "It is something one does not simply forget. You have already come far when it comes to the touch of others. Do not concern yourself with this."

Rebecca nodded. "I make no guarantees."

Severus brought his hand back from her shoulder. "Do not steal my words."

Rebecca smiled. "Let me help you clean up."

Between the two of them, it didn't take any time to gather up the wine, glasses, and blanket. Severus stood easily, giving her a look afterward.

"I promise not to bother you about your knee anymore," she said, holding up her hands in surrender.

"It is how you show that you care," Severus said. "And if you did, I would begin to grow concerned."

"Then I'll resume tomorrow."

"I consider myself dutifully warned."

* * *

"For you, there'll be no more crying, / For you, the sun will be shining. / And I feel that when I'm with you, / It's alright. I know it's right. / To you, I'll give the world. / To you, I'll never be cold. / 'Cause I feel that when I'm with you, / It's alright. I know it's right. / And the songbirds are singing / Like they know the score. / And I love you, I love you, I love you, / Like never before. / And I wish you all the love in the world. / But most of all, I wish it from myself. / And the songbirds keep singing / Like they know the score. / And I love you, I love you, I love you, / Like never before. Like never before." – "Songbird" by Fleetwood Mac

_The Nightmare, August 8-9, 1999_

As Severus lay in bed late on Wednesday evening, he thought about the past few days. Their days in the lab and in one another's company had become more relaxed, yet tenser at the same time. Neither was brave enough to step out of their necessary comfort zones. Severus would have found this frustrating if he didn't feel pride at her having learned from her previous tough lesson, even if he was the one who'd had to deal such a blow. He'd idly wondered if he should apologize for his words, but decided against it. She'd asked for none, and he felt that it wasn't a necessity. He'd meant every word at the time. Regardless of how his feelings had changed, he still stood by his feelings then.

Which brought him to the current day. Still she gave him no definitive answer about her staying on at Hogwarts, even though he was convinced that she would pass her examination with little issue save the cleanliness test. He felt as though her desire to stay rested firmly on how he decided to treat her and what they decided to become. She didn't give any indication that she would favour this notion, but she would have little want to stay at Hogwarts if they were to revert to their previous state of not speaking to one another. But she was doing this for herself, she had said, to make _herself_ happy. Would her happiness still include Hogwarts even if Severus was not in the equation?

As his mind drifted further down this line of thinking, Severus wasn't aware that he was dozing. It was rather late, though what time precisely he didn't know. But he was on the cusp of sleep, a wonderful state where the world seemed almost unreal. The rapping on his door made him sit straight up in bed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and answered the door only after donning his bathrobe—black, of course.

Rebecca had pressed herself as far into the doorframe as she possibly could have and stared at him wide-eyed as Severus opened the door slightly.

"I didn't want to disturb you," she said, her voice shaky. "But I couldn't be alone anymore."

Severus opened the door wide enough so she could fit. "You may enter, if you wish."

She didn't hesitate, and he saw the way she carried herself, hunched over slightly and huddled in upon herself. Severus waved his hand as he turned to shut the door, and the candles within the room flickered to life, bringing light to the room. She stopped in the center of the room, looking at the stone floor and biting her lower lip.

Rebecca felt so stupid, so utterly stupid, for running to him when her own mind had become too much for her after her dream. But it had been too much, lying there, unable to sleep, unable to push the images aside. They'd morphed, become something she hadn't experienced before in her nightmares. And she wasn't sure how to deal with them.

"I presume you had another of your night terrors?" Severus asked, not having moved from his position in front of the door.

Rebecca nodded.

"Do you care to discuss it?"

"Not yet. Still anxious. Working it out."

He'd never known her to speak in such choppy sentences before. His brows furrowed.

"You may sit," he said.

"Standing is better."

Severus nodded, then slowly went around her, giving her a wide breadth as he circled back around to his bed. He sat upon the right side of the bed and scooted back until he leaned against the headboard. And then he waited. He could see her profile, the right half of her body in shadows. Over her usual sleeping attire she wore a green, light-weight and long-sleeved shirt that probably fended off the cool, damp air of the dungeons effectively. Severus watched her expression, but it didn't change much. She was worried, her left arm wrapped around her center, her right elbow resting on top of her other arm. Her right hand was raised before her face, though she wasn't touching her face with her hand. Her blinking was erratic.

But still he waited. He could be patient when the situation called for it, and there had been many a time this had won him stand-offs with particularly problematic students. She, however, concerned him more than he might have admitted aloud as she simply stood and stared straight ahead.

"My nightmare changed," she said.

The silence of the room was so suddenly broken that Severus nearly started. But he looked to her calmly.

"How so?" he asked.

"It was still almost exactly as things had happened that night. Greyback, Bellatrix, Tom… Greyback was holding me. I could feel my scars bleeding. But there was more."

Severus could barely help himself from leaning forward as she slowly gave the details of what caused her such internal agony.

"What was there more of?"

The hand held aloft before her face dropped as she turned to face him. "You were there. And a baby."

All Severus could do was blink. "A child?" he asked.

"And you."

"What occurred to have you so upset?"

"Greyback held me so I couldn't help either of you. I was weak and my magic wasn't obeying me."

Severus could see her beginning to tremble, but she didn't make a move toward him. So he remained where he was on the bed, watching her, wondering how much she would tell him and what she would do afterward.

"Whose child was it?" Severus asked, his voice barely able to muster itself above the level of a whisper.

"The one we lied about to Tom. The one that never existed." Rebecca's brows furrowed. "Bellatrix had her—the baby. Tom had you. We'd been discovered as spies, but I'm not sure how."

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

Severus sat up once more, then held out his hand, palm up, toward her. "Come here, Rebecca."

She looked at the proffered hand, then at his face. Her green eyes held the black, and within them she saw caring, concern, and the desire to help. Slowly, she crossed the distance to the bed and tentatively sat on its edge.

Severus let his hand fall to his side as she took her seat. "If you will allow me to watch it as you saw… I will not touch you, but you cannot break my gaze."

Rebecca looked down, lips pursing and relaxing as she seemed to be thinking on the subject. Finally, she turned to face him, her legs crossing before her as she sat fully on the bed. Severus waited for her to settle before sitting forward himself.

"_Legilimens_," he said, staring intently into her eyes.

It did not take Severus long to find the night terror. It was just on the surface, along with many other stray thoughts and memories, feelings. The times he had used Legilimency upon her, Rebecca's mind had been very organized, like a library. And her Occlumency protected her like a shield. Neither of those things were present. If he so desired, it would be simple for him to overwhelm her. She was putting her utmost trust in him in these gestures, even in her vulnerable state. Either she had not meant to or this was showing him yet another clue to how deep her affections ran. And he knew that Rebecca was not one to do things on accident.

The dream took on the appearance of a memory. So many times had she had the same thing, Severus wondered if it was not stronger than other memories. But it was fuzzier around its edges than usual memories, signaling it as different. Severus stood on the edge of the forested scene, the same one he'd seen in her memories years ago, in the Headmaster's office, when he suspected her of being in love with Black.

What she said of the scene's setup was correct. Greyback held onto Rebecca tightly, taking liberties that made him want to wretch. The Dark Lord held the dream version of himself in the middle of a Cruciatus Curse. Rebecca screamed, trying to dislodge herself from the wolf's grasp. The shrieking of an infant forced Severus to turn his head. He spied the child in Bellatrix's arms. The babe could not have been more than a few months old, perhaps not even half a year. The scream it emitted was of a child with a never-ending supply of air.

The Dark Lord's curse ended, but Rebecca's struggle did not. Bellatrix cackled, holding up her dagger. The Dark Lord motioned for her to wait, then walked to Severus, who lay panting on the ground.

"Severus," the Dark Lord said, looking down upon his limp form. "You have a decision to make."

The Severus upon the ground barely managed to look up, so weak was he and out of breath.

"Who shall die first? Your lying wife or your innocent child? I cannot have the blood of a traitor in my new world, so you will all be dispatched. The order is left to you. Decide."

The child had stopped screaming at some point. Severus now watched the dream version of himself struggle upon the ground, trying to rise. The Dark Lord didn't attempt to stop him. The dream Severus managed to gain his hands and knees, shaking heavily. He looked between Rebecca and the child. Severus stopped watching this version of himself and took in the scene. The child was staring straight ahead, directly at him, as if the dream knew of his existence. The child had thick, slightly wavy black hair. The eyes that turned upon him were emerald green, bright even in the darkness of the night about them. It stole his breath from him.

"Your decision, Severus. _Now_," the Dark Lord barked.

Severus looked back to his dream self upon the ground. His eyes rested upon Rebecca. When Severus turned to see her, her robes were in disarray, much like they'd been in her memory of that night. Blood and grime marred her skin, tears carving paths in her cheeks as she met his dream self's stare.

"R-Rebecca," dream Severus said.

A kindness. To not have to see her child killed. To not have to watch him die. The last caring act he would have performed had this all been a reality.

Severus looked up at the Dark Lord and saw him grin wickedly. "I believed you would say something of the sort. I wished to know. However, that is not how I wish for things to proceed."

With a nod to Bellatrix, the dagger ascended over the child. Severus could watch no more. The Dark Lord's cruelty was not unknown to him. Quickly, he released his hold upon her mind, then slowly pulled back into his own. As soon as he was in the confines of his own body, he saw Rebecca fall forward, face pushed against the mattress, as if all of the emotions from her dream self were taking her over. She was silent, but Severus knew she was merely doing her best to hold back her tears in his presence. He did not move to touch her, knowing that she would not be up for the act.

"I do not presume to understand why dreams or nightmares transform as they do," he said, his voice quiet. "That is the job of those with Divination leanings, which, as you know, are mostly guesswork even at the best of times. However, I certainly know that you are under a great amount of stress, and that will always have ill effect upon one's mind."

As he spoke, Rebecca had begun to sit up, her face hidden in the curtain of her hair. Her face was forward tilted, now, hair hanging before her. He heard her take in a deep breath, hold it, and then release it slowly. Her hand raised and fingers rested against her forehead before combing through her hair, pushing it out of her face. She looked at him now, her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, her throat tense from the sobs she would not allow to escape.

"You're right," she said, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat. "Thank you." More normal.

Her eyes flicked downward to look at the bed. There was a long pause between them.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you," she said, beginning to slide off the bed so she could stand.

"You may stay, if that is what you wish," Severus said quickly.

She was half-way off the bed when he spoke, and glanced back at him. Rebecca sat upon the edge of the bed once more.

"If it's not a bother."

"Sometimes a change of sleeping places helps with night terrors, I have discovered," Severus said.

Once he was certain she was settled on the bed, Severus stood, circling around to make his way for the door.

"I don't want to put you out," Rebecca's voice said from behind him.

Severus stopped, nearly in the same place as she'd been when she had first entered his bedroom.

"I do not mind," he said. "You need your rest more than I."

Another long pause. He could hear her shift on the bed.

"I… I'd like for you to stay, if that's all right," she said. "I just need someone I can trust right now."

Slowly, Severus turned around. Rebecca looked at her hands sitting in her lap, unmoving. He watched her, weighing the options in his mind. It was taking much out of her in order to admit what she had. And to show him the night terror at all… Her words were true. She was giving him the choice once again. An opportunity to show her how much he cared.

Severus began to walk around the bed once more, to the opposite side he'd just come from. Once there, he shed the bathrobe, revealing long, black clothing covering much of his skin. He placed the bathrobe upon the bedpost on this side of the bed before moving the covers back and slipping into the bed. Once settled, he pulled the covers over him.

"Thank you," she said, turning her head slightly to look at him over her shoulder.

He nodded. Rebecca slipped under the covers as well, laying with her back to him.

"You can extinguish the candles," she said. "It won't bother me."

Severus did as she said with another wave of his hand. The room went pitch black. He didn't hear her move. Severus allowed himself to relax, but he was fairly certain he was not going to be sleeping anytime soon, and he wasn't sure if she would, either.

It was such a long silence in the room, Severus didn't think she would speak any more than she already had. But her voice came to him in the darkness, unobtrusive—as if he were imagining it.

"I want to stay. I really do. But I'm scared. Of so many things. You have to understand that."

Severus didn't say anything, choosing to remain quiet to see what else she would reveal to him. Whatever this was, he wondered how he'd gotten himself into it and if there would ever be a way out.

"Whether I stay or not does not rest solely on your shoulders. Know that."

Still he didn't speak.

"I understand now why you acted like you did last summer," she said. "I feel similar emotions even now, in direct conflict with what I want to be feeling."

His lips parted, the words on the tip of his tongue. But he stopped himself. Let her continue.

"Merlin, I'm so stupid," she whispered.

Severus turned over, reaching out to her. His fingertips gently touched her shoulder. She flinched, but did not pull away.

"You are no such thing."

His fingers softly curled around her shoulder, allowing his palm to rest against her back. Severus could feel her trembling. But he waited. He felt her hand touch his own fingers tentatively.

"This isn't an extension of my dream, is it?" she asked. "You're here?"

"I am here," Severus replied, his grip on her shoulder tightening minutely.

It was as though something within her snapped. Rebecca withdrew her hand and bowed her head, letting the tears come to her for all the terror she had felt and the relief she was now consumed with. She felt hands upon her, but Rebecca knew these would not hurt her. His grip was gentle as he pulled her over so that she could faced him. Rebecca curled further into herself, but he continued to gently pull her toward him. Soon, her forehead was pressed against his chest, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, the other about her waist. The arm about her shoulders moved slightly, and his hand was stroking her hair.

Rebecca wrapped her own arms around his midsection, holding him against her as her sobs took her. He did not speak, knowing that it was not needed at the time. Rebecca's tears subsided over time, and he could hear her muttering to herself, presumably clearing her face of tears with magic. But her grip upon him did not relinquish. It was not uncomfortable, so he did not remove her. Her arm underneath him soon moved, slipping between them to rest upon the bed. Her forehead was still firmly pressed against his chest. Severus stole a glance down and saw that her eyes were closed, but he knew she would not immediately fall asleep. Somehow, he didn't want to break any of this.

Severus remained still, only moving to allow him the comfort of one of his arms no longer being trapped underneath her. She remained pliable, moving how he gently prodded her. Soon, he was flat on his back, an arm still wrapped around her, hand still stroking her hair, her head resting against his chest.

Her breathing had evened out, her body taking on the relaxation one only obtains in the sleeping state. Finally, Severus looked down at her. She appeared peaceful. His lips pressed against her forehead momentarily, an oddly comforting gesture for him to make. He lay back against his pillows, hand still running lightly through the ends of her hair in a methodical, fluid movement.

"_Gods_," he said, voice rumbling deep in his chest.

When he woke the next morning, Severus found himself quite alone. Upon entering the lavatory, he could hear her moving about in the lab, and so took his time getting ready. He could not think of what to say to her, so decided to let her speak, if she chose to do so.

He arrived down in the lab fifteen minutes later, dressed as he normally would. She had chosen to wear long clothing today, a reaction to her nightmare from the night before, he supposed. Rebecca didn't even look up when he entered the lab, not even when he shut the door behind him. Severus sat upon the stool in the corner of the room and watched her work, letting his eyes look over her length.

It was just before it was time for breakfast when she finally turned to him, her hair trapped in the awful salve.

"Shall we go to the Great Hall?" she asked.

"We may," he answered, standing.

He reached the door first, and held it open so she might pass before him. Rebecca stopped as soon as she drew in front of him. Slowly, she lifted her head to look at him.

"Thank you for how you helped me last night," she said. "I promise I won't have need of a repeat performance, so I won't disturb you so late anymore."

"As I informed you, it was no inconvenience," Severus said. "And a repeat performance… that will not be a nuisance either—whether or not your night terrors have driven you to me."

Her smile was so small at first that he did not think it was there. She let it grow. The sincerity in this gesture, what she had revealed to him through her actions the night before, and how he felt now culminated within him. Without thinking, he leaned forward. She glanced up at his sudden movement, and he stopped just before her lips, hoping he hadn't frightened her.

Rebecca was the one to close the distance between them, and her lips were soft as they pressed against his for only a moment before pulling away. One side of his mouth tugged upward. She dared to return to him a smug look before quickly making her way up the stairs.


	18. Summer's End, Early to Late August

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for Rebecca. I don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **I'd like to thank everyone for their kind reviews. Please know that they make me smile and keep me writing. :) My semester has started once more, so forgive me if my updates are fewer. I am really trying to finish this, however. Please leave me more reviews as encouragement.

* * *

_The Friendly, August 11, 1999_

She didn't return to his bed the next two nights, and Severus had been unable to figure out why. The issue was not pressed by either of them. The days were spent in chatting, her concentration rarely broken even when they were in debates about potions ingredients, methods for brewing, or any other topics he could think of. Her way of viewing things was much different than his own, but sometimes neither of them had anything to argue over. Still he hesitated bringing up his plans for Greyback, not wanting to ruin whatever lay between them. But Severus knew he would have to tell her soon. It would be published in the papers on the twenty-first, the day after she would take her test, and the day that she would make her decision about whether she would stay or go. And if she decided not to stay, the twenty-seventh she would be gone.

In the open, they were neutral with one another, both wanting to maintain secrecy over their private affairs. Contact between them was minimal, both still discovering their boundaries as well as each other's. Severus caught himself on countless occasions in the two day span watching her, or standing closer to her than he would with others, or sometimes even bearing down upon her lips before he knew what he was doing. Rebecca took this all with a good grace, except when he startled her on a couple of occasions. His abdomen was sore after approaching her too quickly on Thursday evening and being on the receiving end of a punch. Her face had become the same shade as her hair and her apologies were never-ending. It took Severus a bit to regain his breath to speak, but when he did, he refused her apologies, no matter how numerous they were.

Friday morning he found a new bottle of his favourite red ink upon his desk. There was no use in giving it back, so he told her he appreciated the gesture.

"You simply reminded me that I should make more noise when approaching you."

Saturday morning found Rebecca on the pitch, holding the Quidditch supplies Minerva had given to her. The professors were taking their seats in one of the stands. Her small group of friends were standing around her as Marcus handed out the Nimbus 2001s he'd borrowed from the Falcons.

"They're our practice brooms," he said. "We don't use them too much."

"Draco and I have Firebolts, so we won't need to borrow any," Harry said, holding onto his broom.

"So I see," Flint said. "What happened, Potter? I thought your Firebolt was smashed."

"Becca gave me a new one for my birthday," Harry answered.

"Mighty nice of your cousin."

"She is." Harry smiled, tossing his arm around Rebecca's shoulder.

"Thanks, Harry," Rebecca said, ducking out from under his arm to open the case. "Let's get started."

They laid down some simple rules. No fouls, good spirit, no name-calling, and the first to catch the Snitch would win. Or, if two hours had gone by and no one had won, then whoever had the most points would win. There would be two Chasers (Marcus and Astoria for Slytherin, George and Ginny for Gryffindor), a Keeper for each team (Rebecca and Ron), and a Seeker (Draco and Harry) on each team.

"Let's go," Rebecca said, releasing the Snitch.

When everyone was on their brooms and rising into the air, she tossed the Quaffle up and mounted her broom, rising more quickly when Ginny was the first to snatch it. She raced after the other girl, making a beeline for the goalposts on the opposite side of the pitch. She could hear everyone laughing and generally having a good time. She was in front of the goalposts, as Ginny and George had taken to tossing the Quaffle back and forth to one another, taking their time and allowing Rebecca to get to her position.

She blocked the first shot with ease, as George wasn't really trying. She handed the Quaffle off to Marcus, who had circled around behind her. He placed both hands around the Quaffle and gave her a wink.

"Thanks, love," he said before darting off down the other side of the field.

Rebecca could only stare after him.

Severus, in the meantime, had to listen to Mrs. Weasley prattle about her new position in the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

_How unsurprising_, he thought.

Luckily, she had not yet tried to engage him in conversation. It was an inevitability, however. For now, Severus watched what was happening on the pitch. Everyone seemed to be getting along reasonably well so far, and the throw to Rebecca had been sub-par. When she handed the Quaffle off to Flint, the way he lingered around her made his blood boil.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he said, now turning to look at his former student.

"I asked how Rebecca's training is going," she said with a smile. "I'm sure she's doing well, but she has to be secretive about so many things."

"I will unfortunately not be able to tell you any more than she," Severus said. "I also cannot comment on her potion being tested, as I am one of the participants, as I know that you are as well, Mrs. Weasley."

"If you don't mind, I'd like if you called me Hermione."

"I will do my best to remember."

"I didn't know that you were a participant, sir," Hermione said.

"I agreed to it after some reservation, yes."

"Hopefully not because you didn't think Rebecca's potion wouldn't be successful."

"Quite the contrary," Severus said. "However, I do not enjoy being a test subject for simply anyone."

"How was she able to convince you, professor?"

"I felt that it was the least that I owed Miss Felan."

"Well, I'm glad you decided to help her. I know Rebecca appreciates it, too."

Severus gave a curt nod of his head. Apparently, he'd already run his course on conversation topics with Mrs. Weasley, so she returned to speaking with the other professors.

The game dragged on. Rebecca and Ron were fairly decent Keepers, Ron more so than she. He made a few great saves and Rebecca nearly fell off her broom while trying to save a shot on goal. Marcus caught her wrist and pulled her back up, and Rebecca's heart hammered against her chest. They stopped the game for a moment to let her catch her breath, but she'd allowed the Quaffle to sail through the hoop.

"No big deal," Marcus said. "It's only a friendly. You all right, Becca?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Good."

He reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. She pulled her head away.

"Please don't do that, Marcus."

Seemingly unperturbed, he went to retrieve the Quaffle so they could keep playing. Rebecca looked to the stands where the professors sat and could see Severus staring. She swallowed the lump in her throat; she could see how tense he was from here, but all of the others were after her near-fall, so they wouldn't be looking at him. Rebecca turned back to attend to the game as soon as Marcus arrived with the Quaffle.

Severus took his seat once more, along with all of the other spectators. Davies, who had moved into his quarters the night before, spoke up from a few seats down.

"She should've asked me to play," he said. "I was a Quidditch captain, after all."

"Rebecca's doing well enough, Roger," Flitwick said.

"Nearly falling is not doing well," Davies said.

"Precisely why I did not wish for this game to occur in the first place," Severus said, loud enough for the others to hear, though his look was pointed at Minerva.

"Oh, Severus, don't overreact," Minerva said.

"If she injures herself severely enough, it is you who will find yourself regretful and possibly out of a Potions Mistress," Severus said, his tone dry.

"Flint caught her. She is fine," Minerva said, turning back to watch the match.

The game progressed for an hour, neither of the Seekers having even spotted the Snitch. The score was now 60 to 40, siding with Gryffindor. Rebecca was growing weary of sitting on the broom, trying to make saves and being somewhat afraid of slipping off and falling once more. She would be able to catch herself with magic before she hit the ground, but the sensation alone was frightening enough that she didn't want it to have to come to that.

After what seemed ages, Harry finally perked up and began to speed up, heading directly to Rebecca's side of the pitch. His Firebolt hadn't reached anywhere near its maximum speed when Marcus came spiraling out of nowhere, hitting Harry square on his side, almost knocking him from his broom. Rebecca shot forward before anyone else had reached them.

She held Harry's arm before he retaliated against Flint. Rebecca floated directly before her fellow Slytherin just as the others were arriving, all of them looking annoyed.

"I said no fouls," Rebecca said evenly.

"I lost control of my broom," Marcus said with a shrug. "It happens sometimes, Becca." He smiled, reaching out to touch her on the shoulder.

She batted his hand away. "You nearly knocked Harry off his broom."

"I said it was an accident," Marcus said, brows furrowing. "D'you think I'd hurt him on purpose?"

"You've tried to do it before."

"We were kids!" Marcus said.

"Wouldn't really have called you that, seeing as you were almost of age at the time," Harry muttered.

Marcus urged his broom forward. "Listen, Potter—"

Rebecca turned sideways, stopping his movement. "_Enough_, Marcus."

"Becca, come on."

"No. This game is over."

At her words, the Quaffle and Snitch flew back to her. She caught them and waited for Marcus to descend before following him down, the others quickly doing the same. When she reached the ground, she saw the professors and Hermione beginning to make their way down from the stand they were in. As she replaced the Quaffle and Snitch in the supply box, she saw Marcus talking to Harry. They shook hands in the end, though Harry didn't look pleased about it. When she was shutting the box and beginning to stand, Marcus was already approaching her. She handed him back his Nimbus.

"I apologised to Potter," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt him. I'm sorry."

Rebecca didn't say anything.

"Listen, after I return these, I'm free. If you're not busy, d'you want to come grab dinner with me?"

"No, Marcus, I don't."

"Becca, please. I'm not really good at this relationship thing, but you have to give me a chance," he said, reaching for her hand.

"I don't have to do anything," Rebecca said, pulling away. "I liked you to begin with, when you protected me from the others during our school days. You showed your sweet side to me, and I thought you were nice."

"I still _am_ nice. It's just… old habits die hard, you know?"

"Trust me, I know."

"Then let me take you out. All on me. We can catch up. I miss talking to you, Becca."

"I don't know what this infatuation with me is about, Marcus, but I haven't given any sort of indication that I'm interested in you as more than a friend," Rebecca said quickly. "And now I'm not sure about that anymore."

"I thought—"

"No, I'm not sure you did, actually. I'm sorry if you misconstrued things, but I want you to leave. I'll contact you again when I'm in a forgiving mood."

"Becca."

He reached forward and grabbed her arms. Rebecca slipped her left arm easily out of his grasp and back-handed him across the jaw, which loosened his hold on her right arm. She stepped away from him just as her friends closed in around them, having only been a few feet off talking to one another. Not far behind them were the professors and Hermione, emerging from the stand they'd been sitting in.

Marcus put his hand to his chin, looking at her with surprise.

"How many times have I warned you not to touch me," Rebecca said.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Marcus said quickly.

"She said leave, Flint," Harry said, coming to stand between them now.

The others shoved his brooms back at him, George's push so great it nearly sent Marcus toppling over. He was making a hasty retreat just as the others were arriving upon the scene. Rebecca was fending off questions from everyone, including Hermione now, who quickly pushed her way to Rebecca.

"Stop, all of you, seriously," Rebecca said, putting her hands to her sides in a sharp, quick gesture. "He's gone. So let's just drop it and go walk down to Hogsmeade for some lunch."

The group quickly agreed to that. Rebecca picked up the supply box and turned to Minerva, handing it over to the older witch. The Headmistress didn't say anything, and Rebecca turned away from her. As she did, she noted the look Severus gave her. His gaze was intense, a fire burning in his eyes, his jaw set. He wasn't angry with her, not at all. She softened her features and gave him a quick nod, which made the muscles in his jaw relax. He turned back to the castle and she turned to follow her friends.

Upon her return, she found Severus waiting in his sitting room, holding her book on the Patronus Charm. As soon as she entered, he sat the text on the table beside him and stood, closing the gap between them quickly. She waited for him to approach her, and when he finally did, he bent forward slightly to observe her.

"You handled Flint well," he said.

"Better than you would have."

"I would have simply hexed him. Though your slap, from what I could see, should teach him a lesson."

"If it helps, I hit him harder than I punched you on Thursday."

Unconsciously, Severus put a hand to his stomach, but he quickly set his hand back to his side. "I consider myself lucky, then."

Rebecca chuckled.

"Will you see him again?" Severus asked.

"Not for a long time," Rebecca said. "I'm done putting up with him. He was a good friend to me in school while he was here, but we're too different."

"Will you ever tell him?"

Rebecca was surprised Severus had brought that up. When he'd pressed her earlier that week to reveal how she'd planned the faked memory out, she didn't think he would bring it up any longer. She paused to think that over.

"I'm not sure," she said.

"I believe it would rid you of him once and for all."

Rebecca smirked. "Something tells me that you wouldn't mind that."

"I certainly would not complain."

She snickered. "I need to shower."

Severus stepped aside to let her pass, unable to help think of watching her shower nearly three weeks ago. He set about to clearing his mind of the thoughts, knowing that she was not in a place to go through that again. Just as she reached the door of the lavatory, he called after her.

"I have finished your book," he said, walking back to his chair and picking up the text. He held it out for her. "Perhaps once you have finished, we could discuss its theory further. I have a few points of contention with Robards."

Rebecca smiled as she took it from him. "Sure. That sounds fun."

He watched her turn from him, her hair bouncing with each step she took. The door between them shut, and a moment later he could hear the shower going. He sunk heavily back into his chair. Severus waited, trying to go into a meditative-like state so that he would not hear the shower running and be able to keep his mind free of thoughts for now. The door to the lavatory was opening before he knew it, and he blinked a few times, noticing his vision was blurred. Rebecca was dressed once more, her clothing no longer hiding as much of her skin as she had earlier in the week, signaling that she was feeling better, more at ease. Her hair, damp, hung over one shoulder. As she crossed the room, she spoke.

"Hermione told me you were concerned during the game for me and expressed it to Minerva."

"Then she does notice events and people about her, regardless of the fact they are not textbooks."

"She thought it meant something more, but I assured her otherwise. I told her we're on better terms, but there's nothing more to it."

Severus nodded. "It is for the best."

"So you say."

Severus looked at her. She stood just before him now, arms lightly crossed in front of her, watching him in turn.

"When will it be acceptable to explain our situation to others?"

"When we are more certain of it ourselves. When you feel comfortable enough to. When you have decided to stay, and long enough after receiving your Mastery that no one will be suspicious."

"In other words, an indeterminate amount of time."

Severus' brows furrowed. "Are you… displeased about this?"

"I'd rather not have to lie anymore," Rebecca said with a sigh. "It's not as though this is actually compromising whether or not I'll pass the test. You can't rig it for me to pass regardless of whether or not we're sleeping together. It's ultimately up to the Ministry official if I've passed."

"While that is true, I do not wish for there to be any arguments over whether or not things were done properly or with propriety."

"You know, Flint said something to me today that makes sense."

"And that would be?"

"Old habits die hard."

Severus stared at her, keeping his lips firmly shut.

"Maybe I've become too accustomed to lying," Rebecca said. "You definitely have. We can't escape from it. That might be our problem." She shrugged. "We're too Slytherin for this new world. Too affected by the war to be completely normal."

"You would presume that I was ever normal to begin with."

Rebecca gave him an incredulous look. "_Now_ you think is a good time to make jokes."

"A half-joke, if I were to be honest," Severus said, standing.

He approached her slowly, giving her plenty of time to show discomfort with the situation. But she stayed where she was, allowing him to stand directly before her. Severus reached up, his hand tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. As his hand dropped back to his side, he noted that she still hadn't moved.

"Not unlike your last two school years, I continue to have your best interests in mind," he said. "But it is not to my detriment this time, I assure you."

Rebecca gave him a long look before finally nodding.

"Moreover, whether or not we are sleeping together is hardly the point, as people will assume, upon our outing of whatever our relationship status is, that we have been doing so for quite some time. It is not surprising in the academic field when, years later, former apprentices and their masters finally admit to some sort of secret relationship with one another. Enough time has passed that it has no bearing on the former apprentice's mastery of the subject."

"So you're saying we may have to wait years," Rebecca said evenly.

"If many things fall into place properly, it is a possibility," Severus answered. "However, with the way trouble seems to shadow you, and how well you react to those situations, whatever we are will come to light within a year of your becoming Potions Mistress, and no one will think twice at your qualifications, although they may question your sanity."

"Or yours," Rebecca said with a smirk.

"I shall simply be known as the older man who preys on a younger woman."

"_Please_," Rebecca said with a scoff. "When older men sleep with younger women, it's normal—even smiled upon— but should an older woman show interest in a younger man, especially in the wizarding world, it's uncouth."

"An astute observation," Severus replied. "However, I do not see you performing your part in breaking such stereotypes."

"I think I've already broken enough stereotypes for a lifetime, don't you, Severus?"

He allowed another tiny smile to escape. "Indeed." After a moment's pause, he spoke once more. "I want you to understand that what I said concerning my intentions last summer are not how I currently feel."

"I wasn't under that impression for now, but I wasn't sure how much of that was exaggeration."

"Unfortunately, it was not. Like you, I was not in a very good place at that time. However, you should be aware that you are in full control of that particular aspect."

Rebecca's eyebrow rose slowly.

"I am a patient man when I am not in emotional turmoil," Severus said.

"Well, so much for discussing your contentions with Robards," Rebecca replied with a smirk.

"We may still do so, if that is what you desire."

"Perhaps later. I'm interested in hearing more about you."

Her look was suddenly much more intense than he'd ever seen it before. It was not anger. Interest, curiosity, with not the slightest look of hesitation. Suddenly, Severus realised that he was going to have a difficult time answering her questions. He shifted his weight evenly onto both feet while she remained still, already having firmly planted herself.

"Don't worry too much, Severus. They're questions most potential partners would ask the person they're thinking about sleeping with."

"Bold language," he nearly growled. "Particularly for someone—"

"A virgin, yes," Rebecca interrupted. "I'm aware."

Severus looked down his nose at her. He was uncomfortable with the impending conversation, but was struck by her regained authority with her tone and her speech. That had been why he'd nearly growled. Her usual self coupled with their close proximity and the subject at hand… She was certainly going to try his patience. He was still only human.

"I'm astonished and intrigued by your sudden re-discovery of your authority, particularly on this matter," Severus said.

She shrugged. "And you showed a more tender side of yourself than I ever expected you to the other night," she said. "This is more of an effort than it appears, so don't ruin it."

At her words, Severus realised that her fingers dug slightly into her arms and her shoulders were tense. He looked directly back into her eyes and gave a curt nod.

"How many people have you slept with?" Rebecca asked.

Severus paused, thinking she would have led up to it. His lips parted slowly.

"Three," he said.

"Who were they?"

"Consenting women. I did not participate in revels."

"I remember you telling me how you avoided them."

He gave a curt nod.

"Anyone special?"

"You are asking whether or not I slept with Lily. The answer is no."

"You answered half of my question, Severus."

"No one 'special,' as you have so termed it. Women of the trade, when I was much younger and less likely to think logically."

"Were they witches?"

"Yes, and each protected herself well. Of that I made certain."

Rebecca glanced him up and down quickly. "I'll want to do my own tests in that regard."

"Smart witch," Severus said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

That unnerved her for a moment, but she stood her ground. Rebecca met his gaze.

"How long has it been since you've slept with anyone?"

Severus broke her look, eyes staring at the stone floor as he answered. "Not since the Dark Lord murdered Lily."

"Were these other women attempts to get over her?" Rebecca asked, her voice soft.

"In a manner of speaking," he said.

"That wasn't the only reason, then."

"I wished to be prepared in the unlikely event of a woman desiring to sleep with me. I do not wish to do a thing unless I am able to do it properly. And like you, Rebecca, I never forget what I have been taught, regardless of the length of time that has passed."

He saw her swallow the lump in her throat, and it made Severus realise that his face was very close to hers. He must have bent closer to her upon answering each question. Severus was amazed she hadn't taken a step back, but he could see now the growing concern in her eyes, the slight tremble in her arms. He pulled himself back and straightened, standing up once more.

As soon as he had given her that much room, Rebecca felt herself relax immediately. How was she supposed to continue pretending to be such a strong individual who always spoke her mind when she even still had issues with being so close to others, even one she trusted so much? Rebecca shoved that thought away. She had brought up this conversation and she was going to finish it.

"Thank you for answering truthfully," she said.

"It appeared as though I had little choice in the matter," he said. "You were right in discussing such topics with a potential partner."

"Eventual partner," Rebecca said. "I believe the 'potential' was thrown out a while ago."

Severus chuckled. She smiled.

* * *

"I think that possibly, / Maybe, I've fallen for you. / Yes, there's a chance / That I've fallen quite hard over you. / I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down, / I want to come too… / I think that possibly, / Maybe, I've fallen for you. / No one understands me quite like you do / Through all of the shadowy corners of me… / I think that possibly, / Maybe, I've fallen for you. / Yes, there's a chance / That I've fallen quite hard over you." – "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg

_Lunch at Hogsmeade, August 14, 1999_

It was time to review the journals her friends had all returned to her after applying her salve for the past month. Her own journal she carried under her arm, the others in her hands, as she walked into his sitting area. There she found Severus, who now held his own out to her. But as she reached for it, he pulled it suddenly from her grasp. Her eyebrow rose at the unusual manoeuvre.

"Perhaps perusing these with the prospect of a good meal would be a better way to approach this aspect of your research."

"I think you're asking me out to lunch," Rebecca said, a smile slowly appearing.

He made no answer, simply taking the journals from her. "You are overdue for a visit to Rosmerta, I believe."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. Less than a half an hour later, however, she found herself entering The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. Immediately, Rosmerta greeted them as they sat at the end of her bar. There were not many patrons in the restaurant, so Rebecca spent a good long while immersed in conversation with the barmaid while she noticed Severus looking through the journals. When Rosmerta finally took their orders and left them, she snatched the journal on top of the pile from him.

"You won't even let me have the first look," she said, shooting him a look.

"As your Potions Master, I feel that I am obliged a cursory first glance," he replied, opening the next one.

Rebecca's hand clapped over that one as well. "How am I to learn to draw my own conclusions when I'm worried about what you're already thinking and pleasing you by drawing the same conclusions?"

"You have little to fear in regards to displeasing me," Severus said, his features neutral and voice normal, if only loud enough for her to hear. "In fact, I believe you please me greatly, Miss Felan."

Rosmerta returned with their drinks at that point, so she was relegated to shooting him a look. The witch stayed a little longer, asking Rebecca about her continued work up at the castle.

"And don't you worry, Rebecca. No one in here ever believed a word of what the papers wrote about you," Rosmerta said. "Any of those writers aren't allowed here—I can guarantee you that."

"I appreciate that, Rosmerta," Rebecca said with a nod.

"I hope myself that you'll stay on at the castle." She looked to Severus. "What does Professor Snape think of her chances at passing and remaining?"

"I do not claim to have access to my apprentice's mind," Severus answered. "It is something she must decide for herself."

Rosmerta spoke to them only a few more moments after that and left to take care of her other customers. Rebecca finally began with Ginny's journal. She already knew what hers held, but there were still the others to go through. Severus remained quiet while she read, at least for a while.

"I am curious upon which scars you applied your salve," he said.

"I suppose that's for me to know and you to read in my final report," Rebecca said, not bothering to look up from the pages before her.

Severus let silence fall between them once more. Their backs were practically against the wall, so no one sat behind them. No other patrons sat at the bar, having chosen seats closer to the door. No one saw his hand lift and fall gently onto Rebecca's thigh, the one with the scar upon it.

He felt the muscles of her leg tense immediately, her shoulder hunch slightly, and her jaw tighten, but her face gave nothing away and her eyes continued unimpeded across the page.

"I have theories myself," Severus said, for all the world looking to be discussing her findings with her. "The one beneath my palm, for instance, was already beginning to fade when you were bare before me."

Rebecca forced her jaw to relax, pushing her shoulders into a more normal position for the way she was seated. But she didn't respond, not having built up the courage for that yet.

Severus noted the way she made herself appear calm, though her leg was still tensed.

"You would not stop at just the one, I believe," he said. "However, you would not want to test just one type of scar. Which of your other wounds, then, would you have chosen?"

It was difficult work, keeping his tone even and his distance from her, to make it seem a normal conversation to the public. There was also a thrill to it. His hand still upon her thigh, he could feel her heart beating very quickly, perhaps as fast as his own was. Her face was suddenly turned toward his, and with a calm expression mimicking his own normal features, she replied to his seemingly infinite questions.

"Well, you'll just have to see for yourself at some point, won't you?"

His fingers tightened across her thigh, the texture of her jeans course against his skin. She smirked at him, then looked back at the journal in front of her. Severus looked over her shoulder, too shocked to do much else other than pretend to care about what the new Mrs. Potter had written about her scars. What concerned him more was if the statement she'd proposed was true or if she was simply trying to act brave.

"It's difficult to think with your hand like that," she said.

Severus did not know how long his hand had remained upon her thigh, but now he let it slide back onto his own knee. How easily she turned the tables upon his own game now; how quickly she rose to the occasion. She was becoming more comfortable with each passing day. The prospect of her indeed choosing to stay because he had somehow managed to settle the issues between them… the thought alone made him nearly smile.

Rebecca pushed Mrs. Potter's journal aside and picked up the stack, glancing at him with an impish look as she pulled his out from the bottom.

"Now to see what you've been up to, professor…"

She flipped to the first page, her eyes scanning quickly, brain picking out the useful information at a pace even Severus had a difficult time following.

"At least I could trust you to take such thorough notes," she muttered. "I'm worried about what Bill's might look like."

She flipped multiple pages at a time, finger trailing down the final page and stopping at the very last line. Rebecca closed the journal, smiling as she set it on top of Ginny's journal.

"I'm glad it helped, even a little," she said.

"There is very little chance that Nagini's wound will entirely go away. However, I plan on utilising your salve upon it for at least a while longer. For my own natural curiosity."

Rosmerta came, bearing their food, and the two of them ate in companionable silence. Severus could not help but think how they had come to be here. How all of his plans were ruined, replaced with a new sense of the uncertain. His plans were damned now, worth nothing, but this barely registered with him, even as he consciously thought on it.

She _was_ changing him, this Severus knew. Not just his Patronus. He was most certainly still the same surly man he had been all his life, but there was a new dimension to him, one that was vulnerable and still growing. The same feelings he recalled when he spent any time with Lily in his youth now seemed to pale in comparison. Was that his new outlook on that particular relationship that made it seem so, his lack of owing a Life Debt to the Potters, or was it Rebecca Felan that had made this change apparent? Another uncertainty.

But he cared. He cared whether or not she decided to stay. He cared whether or not whatever this was between them would flourish and last. And he cared for her safety. He cared enough that he still could not bring himself to tell her of his plans for Greyback, the only plans he'd managed to stick to this summer. Something that had been borne out of confused feelings now seemed all too clear to him. The desire to protect, to keep her from harm, to keep what was _his_ out of the hands and fangs of that wolf.

"Severus, are you all right?" Rebecca asked, brow furrowed as she looked upon his sour expression.

He forced his features into a neutral position. "Thinking much harder than I anticipated I would."

"What about?"

"Simply thinking of all of the know-it-alls and dunderheads thatI will encounter this new school year."

Rebecca chuckled, reaching for the next journal and flipping through it even as she ate. Her head barely lifted from the journal pages for the rest of their meal. Severus attempted to read over her shoulder a few times, but it proved useless because of how quickly she turned the pages. Preliminary skimming for her was very quick, indeed.

It was time to leave. They paid for their own meals, both leaving a good tip for Rosmerta before exiting the Broomsticks and walking back toward the castle. The journals were carefully held in both of Rebecca's hands. She walked to his side, but slightly behind him, her features set to a pondering expression.

"What does your skimming tell you?" he asked, glancing her way.

"That my salve works as I intended it to. I'm pleased about how well it affects scars from muggle accidents or less powerful magic. The more advanced curses or various wound types we all have seem to be fading, but at a much slower rate. So, a few careful tweaks to the directions and it should be ready for marketing."

"Do you believe you will be able to brew it successfully next week?"

"I will do another test run just to make sure, but I'm confident."

Severus stopped in front of her, turned to face her. Rebecca came to a halt just before her face ran into his chest. Her eyes lifted to meet his.

"I find myself proud of your accomplishments," he said.

A tiny smile appeared on Rebecca's face. In return, she received from him a smug look.

"What?" she asked.

"I enjoy when it is I who makes you smile."

He set forth for the castle once more, Rebecca following along in his wake, failing to conceal her grin.

* * *

_A Close Encounter, August 16, 1999_

Their time together during the next day and half was mainly spent in the lab, being silent. Severus watched her brew with a fierce concentration that he wouldn't dare break. By the time they were out of the lab, all she wished to do was shower and sleep. Though he could not blame her, he could not help but feel the loss of their ease with one another.

A slow fear built up within him. She had decided not to stay, and that was why she was avoiding him. It was a completely idiotic feeling. Rebecca was tired; brewing took a toll on one, particularly when one wished to perfect one's own potion. But still the thought held onto him.

As he went to bed Thursday night, he once more fought with himself over his brain's efforts in ruining his attempts to keep calm. But somehow he managed to fall asleep.

Severus was briefly woken when his bed began to move. He was on alert, but Rebecca's face appeared before him and he relaxed once more.

"Nightmare?" he asked, his voice heavy.

"No, I'm fine," she said. "Go back to sleep."

He lay back against his pillows and allowed his eyes to close. Rebecca watched him drift off once more, remaining where she was on the opposite side of the bed. It was nearly impossible to see his features in the darkness of the room. The dungeons had never allowed much light, and all she could see was his profile. She listened as his breathing steadied, saw his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Rebecca sighed quietly.

"Things would've been much simpler if you hadn't made me fall in love with you again, Severus Snape," she whispered.

She shook her head. "But my life can't be that simple, I suppose."

Rebecca moved quietly, slowly, to his side of the bed, holding herself up so she could lean over him and kiss his cheek softly. She pulled back slightly, eyes closed, and paused, letting herself grow accustomed to his proximity when he wasn't moving. Her eyes opened when she heard his head moving on the pillow. His lips pressed against hers—gently, but with purpose. Rebecca didn't pull away once she realised that he was awake and probably had been this whole time.

Severus' arm crept upward, coming to rest upon her neck to make certain she would not move from him so quickly. His grip was loose, so she could always choose to do so, but Severus hoped that she would not.

Rebecca placed her right hand over Severus, holding herself over the top half of his body as their kiss grew deeper. She was fine as their tongues entwined, exploring one another's mouths. Rebecca felt in control of the situation from her position half on top of him, and he seemed content to let her continue to hold what little control she did on the situation.

After a few long minutes, Rebecca pulled away to catch her breath, resting her forehead against his. He tried to recapture her lips before she was prepared, which earned him getting pushed back into the bed. Rebecca kept her hand on his shoulder. He stayed where he was.

"_Lumos_," she said.

The candle beside the bed lit up. In the dim light, she could see the fire in his black eyes.

"Patience, I see," she said with a smile, her weight upon his shoulder keeping him still.

"I _am_ merely human."

"I'm starting to see that." She removed her left hand from his shoulder, replacing it upon the bed beside him once more. "I want to try something. You're going to stay completely still while I do it."

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"My own curiosity about a number of things and to show myself that I can press my own limits."

"I find myself pleased to once more be your chosen test subject."

The dim light offered him a good view of the smirk she shot in his direction. He would have given her a wicked grin in return, but found he was too shocked to do so a moment after thinking of the deed. She swung one leg over him and was now straddling him, though not touching his hips. Now he understood why she wanted him to remain still. Severus did so as she paused, looking him up and down.

She leaned down once more, and Severus found himself hoping she was not planning on truly straddling his hips before she was prepared to do so. During their snog, Severus had felt himself stirring. Now all she would have to do is dip her hips just a few inches lower…

Her lips were near his once more, and Severus did his best to focus.

Rebecca watched his reaction to her the entire time, and she could see the restraint he was exerting.

"Slowly," she whispered, before closing the distance between them again.

Her kisses were tender, and he knew if he'd been a more emotional man he might have wept for how sweet they were. As it was, his entire focus was devoted to going as slowly as she bid him to with her own lips and not moving any part of his body, as he'd been instructed, but it was growing more difficult as their kiss became more passionate.

"You can touch me," she said between their kisses. "Gently." Her voice was breathy, and Severus nearly lost all control at her words.

His hands were upon her face, her shoulders, in her hair as he pulled her closer to his body. She took his sudden burst of movement admirably, sitting up momentarily on her knees and using her own hands to calm his down. When Severus looked up, he could see her eyes staring intently into his. If there was panic, she hid it well. He took in a deep breath and let it out, cupping her cheek gently and pulling her toward him.

Rebecca allowed him to coax her back into his kisses. Hovering over him gave her better positioning, more control, and the feeling of being able to get away or stop at any point, all which kept her calm. Her body reacted to his, to how he held and kissed her. She pulled out of their kiss, giving her a chance to breathe once more. Severus lay under her, mouth closing and re-opening to speak. He stopped, lips coming together once more. He met Rebecca's look.

"You do not have to continue," he said, voice gravelly. "I will be more than a content man after this."

"I want to—"

"I will remind you again that despite my willingness to be patient, I am still liable to make mistakes," he said, barely able to control the tone of his voice. "It has been some time for me, and you smell… very sweet."

He saw her turning red. Quickly, her leg swung over him and she sat beside him on the bed. Severus took her hand before she was able to pull away completely. Rebecca looked down at his hand, but remained still otherwise.

"You have nothing to be self-conscious about, Rebecca," he said.

"I know. I just… forgot about your superhuman sense of smell," she said with a tiny smile.

Severus allowed himself to return the expression. "I would like for you to stay, if you wish."

"I don't want to cause you anymore discomfort."

"I assure you that I am more than comfortable."

"Just because you don't have a smell doesn't mean I'm completely naïve," Rebecca said.

"You needn't concern yourself with that."

The silence that next fell had Severus worried. When he looked up, he could practically see her thinking.

Rebecca wondered if she should press the issues, weighing the thought of going forward against allowing it to drop. She decided that, for now, with Severus trying to avoid the current situation, she would bring up something else entirely different.

She turned back to face him, crossing her legs in front of her. "Would you let me see where Nagini bit you? I haven't seen it since it happened, and I want to see how much it's healed."

Rebecca watched him tense immediately.

"And what has brought this question to the forefront of your thoughts?"

"You were able to see all of my scars," she said easily. "Perhaps I think it retribution for that day."

"I highly doubt that."

"My own curiosity."

"And something else," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I ask for this for the same reason I ask after your leg. Because I care."

The candlelight flickered, casting shadows over his face. Nearly half of his head was in shadows, so it was difficult to determine how he was thinking from his facial expressions. Finally, Severus' hands lifted to the high collar he wore even now, to sleep in. As he pulled it aside, Rebecca pushed herself forward on the bed, soon sitting directly in front of him. Her right hand came to hold the collar herself, passing over his fingers. He relinquished the hold of the fabric to her and remained perfectly still, even as her left hand came up to trace the reforming skin.

She could not imagine how much worse it could have looked before this, and now understood his desire for extremely high-collared shirts. The skin was discoloured, much darker than the rest of his neck. The puncture wounds weren't perfectly circular, as Nagini had fallen on him and Severus had fought back. The skin around the wounds did not look nearly as torn, and new skin, paler than his normal colouring, was forming.

Her fingers ran delicately over the skin. A shiver went up Severus' spine as he took in a deep breath. Rebecca looked at him and saw his eyes were closed. His brows were furrowed, but his jaw was relaxed, a torn feeling between wanting to be uncomfortable but gaining pleasure from her touch.

Rebecca leaned forward and pressed her lips onto the scar. Underneath her, his neck expanded from the breath he took in.

"You heard what I said, didn't you?" Rebecca said, the breath from her words tickling his skin.

"Every word," he replied, his voice a harsh whisper.

Rebecca paused, choosing the words in her head carefully before releasing them.

"And you're pleased?" she asked.

"More than I have been in a long while." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"_Nox_."

The candlelight went out, washing them in darkness. Severus waited, still feeling her hand upon his skin and her lips hovering just above his scar. He was nearly trembling with anticipation, uncertain of what she would do next. It was thrilling, but he was also extremely vulnerable, and this he did not like.

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Rebecca pulled away from him. Severus heard her slide off the bed, and his brows furrowed deeply. But he remained silent. After a moment, he felt the covers moving, felt her slip underneath them and curl up beside him, leaving about an inch between them. He held his breath, unable to see, not knowing what she could possibly be doing.

Rebecca reached over and found his hand, taking it in both of hers and pulling it underneath the covers.

"I'm not ready for you to see it yet," she said quietly. "But I want you to receive something in return. I know I can give this to you."

Rebecca placed his hand upon her scarred thigh, though the Dark Mark was significantly less distinguishable against her skin, even by touch. She felt Severus go very still beside her. His hand upon her thigh rested lightly, unmoving. Both of her hands still held onto his, waiting for him to do something. She felt anxious for many reasons. Perhaps she was in an even more vulnerable position than he had just been in. But she needed to press forward or she would never heal. And with how much restraint he was showing, Rebecca knew she could trust him with this.

Slowly, Severus allowed his fingers to trace the scar. Her hands remained upon his, but they were merely a presence and did not hinder his exploration. As he neared the top of her scar, Severus felt her go rigid. He laid his hand flat upon her bare skin, taking in her heat and committing this to memory.

"It has healed far better than my own wound," he said.

"Yes."

"Will you try on the others like it?"

She didn't respond for a moment, and Severus nearly pulled his hand away.

"I haven't decided yet," she said, holding his hand against her skin more firmly as she felt him move.

"Why?" he asked, leaning forward. His forehead rested against the side of her head, and he breathed in deeply, burying his nose in her hair.

"I'm not certain if I should part with them yet. Or if they will entirely go away. I don't know how to feel about making them disappear. Whether or not I like them, they've been a part of my body for four years."

"Battle scars are the most difficult to come to terms with," he said, lips moving against her ear. Severus allowed himself to smirk when she shivered. "No one shall judge you one way or the other."

"Will you?" she asked, turning her head slowly.

"No."

She kissed him, the simple pressing of her lips against his, still holding his hand upon her thigh. Rebecca pulled gently from him.

"You're not the only one changing this summer, Severus," she said quietly.

"I have no need to complain." He let his hand slip off her thigh. "We should sleep."

As soon as they were comfortable, Rebecca sought his hand and pulled it around her middle, forcing him to hold her.

"I will get used to you touching me," she whispered.

"I do not doubt it."

Severus remained awake long past when he was certain she slept, holding onto her tightly. If, after all of this, she chose not to stay… He shook his head, pulling her gently closer to him. She gave a soft sigh in her sleep, and Severus looked down at her, making out the profile of her forehead, nose, cheek, and lips.

He had not wished to come to rely upon another individual, particularly when it came to his own happiness, but she had sneaked her way in. And he had begun it all, had allowed it to happen. Should she dismiss him this time, Severus was uncertain of his reaction, but he knew that it would be less tactful than hers had been last summer after his trial.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. He settled his head upon the pillow beside her own, letting his eyes close as he tried to force himself to fall asleep.

* * *

_After the Examination, August 21-22, 1999_

Rebecca was so tired that all she wanted to do was collapse. The examination had been the most difficult thing she'd done this summer, both mentally and physically. The shower was the most horrifying part, but she focused on her own ministrations rather than trying to ignore herself as Severus suggested. She got through it relatively unscathed and then proceeded with the rest of the practical. The proctor from the Ministry had been impressed.

She had passed.

Rebecca made a beeline for the lavatory, turning the water on one of the hottest settings and letting the room fill with steam as she undressed and stepped over the magical threshold, bath items held in her grasp. Severus was speaking with the proctor, finalising… something. She wasn't sure what. She supposed it didn't matter.

Rebecca washed eight hours' worth of grime and potions work from her hair and off her body, going through the ritual that she'd done at the onset of the exam. She was soon finished, taking her bath items out with her and putting them away before she set to drying off. She wrapped a towel around her and grabbed her things, entering her quarters.

She opened the door and Severus looked up from his hands. He sat on the sofa, clearly waiting for her to be finished. Rebecca paused a moment, not having expected him to be there. She let her shoulders relax and walked past him, shaking her head. He stood, watching her enter the open doorway into her bedroom.

By the time Severus entered her bedroom, she was already in her closet, the door mostly shut, presumably getting dressed.

"Congratulations are in order," he said.

"Thank you." Her voice carried easily through the few inches' crack.

He waited for her to come out before speaking again. When she appeared, Severus found himself silenced by her dress. Her hair, damp, hung in small ringlets about her face and shoulders. A form-fitting, black tank top. Shorts. Nothing he had ever expected her to wear, not even when she was certainly so tired that all she wished to do was sleep. She reached up to hang the wet towel over the door of her closet, and he watched as her muscles flexed.

"You obviously have something on your mind other than congratulations," Rebecca said, tone even as she turned back toward him. If she had been trying to be playful, it was completely lost in her expression and stance. She sat on her bed.

"I wanted to speak to you earlier, but I did not wish to threaten your performance today," Severus said, taking a step toward her.

Rebecca scooted over, making room for him to sit. She leaned against her pillows, legs crossed before her. Severus tentatively sat on the edge of her bed, attempting to school his features into neutrality.

"Can this wait?" she asked. "I'm really tired."

"Unfortunately, this is something you must know now," Severus said. "Something, honestly, you should have known about when the decision had first been made."

Rebecca brows furrowed. "Now you're scaring me."

Severus sat up straight and looked directly into her eyes. "Kingsley owed me two favours. I saved his life during the First Wizarding World. As repayment for his Life Debt to me, we agreed upon two favours. The first I used to garner a Portkey from him this past December so that I could spy on you."

"And the second?"

"A request that I made in late July. A request concerning Greyback."

Rebecca sat up, staring intently at him, all traces of exhaustion gone.

"As you are aware, the remaining Dementors of Azkaban are no longer used to administer the Kiss, as it was deemed unethical and cruel to leave a human prisoner without their soul." He paused. "However, I argued that not all prisoners are entirely human and the legislation regarding half-breed prisoners is questionable at best."

He saw the change come over her face at his speech. Her eyes wide with a rage she was barely suppressing, waiting to hear him out. Her hands gripped her legs before her. Severus pressed onward.

"Kingsley granted my request to have Greyback executed by means of the Dementor's Kiss," Severus said. "It will occur in two days' time, with an open viewing. The papers are to publish the news tomorrow. I desired to inform you before then."

Her green eyes were wide. She felt a coldness sweep over her body, which shook minutely with the emotions she was holding back. Anger, hurt, pain, and a sense of anxiety.

"Half-breed, Severus?" she said. "How can that word even still be in your vocabulary?"

The words poured from her mouth, and she stood, pacing beside the bed, unable to even look at him.

"He is not a half-breed, and definitely not a half-man. He is just a man who used what he was as an excuse to hurt people. _Good_ people. Like Bill. Remus. Me."

She turned to him, her mind going so quickly she couldn't even process all of her thoughts. "The Kiss is something that I wouldn't wish on anyone, not even Greyback. I can't believe you would do this, without even consulting me."

Severus stood, reaching toward her. Rebecca quickly stepped back.

"No," she said, her face expressing all of the hurt and horror she was feeling at the moment. "I may want him dead for what he did to me, for what he may have done to other women who never came forward and probably never will, but that doesn't mean I think he deserves the Kiss. It's a fate worse than death. Worse than watching Sirius fall through the veil a thousand times over, and no one able to do anything to help him."

Severus stared at her, unable to think of anything in response. He had feared she would react this way. And now she looked at him in a way he never had expected her to. Disgust.

"Rebecca—"

"Can you make Kingsley stop this?"

Severus grew quiet, his lips thinning. "I will not tell Kingsley to stop the Kiss."

Rebecca stood there, arms crossed over her chest, simply looking at him. "I can't even fathom why you'd waste a favour from Kingsley for this of all things."

"I cannot believe you are acting so childish."

"Childish?" Rebecca said. "I let Greyback live in the middle of battle, where I could have easily killed him. But that didn't seem right to me—he was unarmed and Stunned. He couldn't hurt anyone then, and then he'd be put in Azkaban forever and I'd be rid of him. I threw that dagger at Bellatrix because she killed Fred and was about to kill Molly, people I care about and love. And now you're playing God, making decisions for someone who's already been sentenced, and you're telling me that I'm acting childish?"

"I made that decision for you!" Severus said, teeth bared as he closed the distance between them. He stood at his full height before her, rage overtaking him. "You do not know how that night still plagues me—my conscience. You do not understand how its pains me when you flinch when I touch you, even when you don't wish to. He should _never_ have been able to touch you. He should _never_ have made you feel so vulnerable, so wretched about experiences you had been yet to have."

He was shouting. Shouting at her, lecturing her. But he was so furious and frightened at the same time. If she did not understand, he was certain she would be lost. Despite everything he had done this summer, how much he had tried to change for her, this one hasty decision would be the undoing of everything.

"You made that decision for me," Rebecca said, her voice cold, even, quiet.

Severus took in deep breaths through his nose. He could not respond.

"_You _made the decision for _me_." She shook her head. "That was the biggest mistake you could have made, Severus Snape."

Severus felt the pit of his stomach give out at her expression. Pure anger. Nearing hatred. Full of wrath.

"I want you to get out of my quarters," she said through her teeth. "Now."

Severus did not wait to be commanded once more. He turned quickly and slammed the door behind him, and then again when he reached the lavatory, still warm from her shower. When he reached his own rooms, all he could do was fall into his chair. He bent at his waist, gripping his hair in his hands tightly enough that it pained him. He could feel his magic sparking about him like small lightning bolts.

She was going to leave. She would return to America. To Turner. To a life she hated. To get away from him.

She would not be his. She would move on from him this time, forget him and his blundering ways of showing… showing that he cared. She would love another.

It was only a minute after she banished him from her quarters that Rebecca heard the first crashing noise, not dissimilar to the smashing of a mirror. But this was tenfold the cacophony. She set her jaw and warded her bedroom against the noise.

He had no right to make any decision for her, particularly one of that magnitude. Rebecca's mind raced as she thought of how she could fix this situation. It took several attempts and a few minutes of deep breathing before she was able to conjure her Patronus. She sent it off to Kingsley, requesting a meeting with him. While she waited for a reply, she changed into more appropriate attire for a meeting with the Minister. The evening was upon them, and Kingsley would most likely be at home already, but she hoped he would respond.

It was nearly twenty minutes before the bobcat Patronus formed before her. Kingsley's voice came from its open maw.

"Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron in ten minutes."

Rebecca threw on her cloak and exited her quarters, running through her argument in her own mind. The interior and grounds of Hogwarts going past her quick pace barely registered to her senses. Once she was past the wards, Rebecca Apparated, appearing in the alleyway outside the Cauldron, the entrance to Diagon Alley. A strange place for a meeting, but she supposed Kingsley wouldn't want her coming to his home.

The Minister was already standing at the bar, speaking with Tom, when she entered. He beckoned her over.

"Tom has allowed us a room for an hour so that our conversation may be kept private," Kingsley said.

They went up the stairs, Kingsley allowing Rebecca up first. He could see she was upset, and her Patronus had been vague. But Kingsley was no fool. She was here to talk about Greyback. Only when they were in the room and he'd shut the door did she begin to speak, choosing to remain standing.

"You have to stop the Kiss tomorrow."

Kingsley turned to look at her. "I'm not sure I follow, Rebecca."

"You outlawed it," she said, brows furrowed. "But you went back on that. It's inhumane for anyone, even someone like Greyback."

"Rebecca, I cannot go back on the agreement that I have with Snape. I'm certain he explained the situation to you?"

"He did. And I think it was rather cowardly of you to accept such a favour, Minister."

Her eyes narrowed, making Kingsley on the receiving end of one of the deadliest glares of his lifetime.

"I can deny no favour Snape asks of me as part of my Life Debt agreement to him. And I will overlook what could be taken as threats to the Minister. You're angry. Why didn't you come to me earlier? This is going in the papers in the morning, and I cannot stop the presses this late in the day."

"Severus didn't feel the need to tell me of this arrangement until thirty minutes ago, once I'd taken and passed my Mastery test."

"Clever of him in some ways, not so in others," Kingsley said.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Is there any way that this can be stopped?"

"No. Greyback will be executed via Dementor's Kiss at nine in the morning on the twenty-second, as is laid out in the announcement that will appear in the press."

Kingsley paused, watching as the young woman before him began pacing before him.

"I suggest that you attend," Kingsley said. "You may find it therapeutic."

"Therapeutic to watch someone's soul get sucked out of them and be left a shell. That's sick. Next you'll have the crowd watching my memory of the night he took me again for their amusement."

"Rebecca."

"You know that it's wrong. It's why you outlawed it in the first place."

"For wizards and witches."

"Last time I checked, Greyback was still magical."

"But he's still—"

"A half-breed, as Severus so eloquently put it." Rebecca paused in front of him, hands balled into fists and hanging at her sides.

Kingsley looked to the floor. "I had no choice, Rebecca. I had to grant his request. He made the appropriate arguments. No one will be saddened to hear of the news."

"No, but people will question your judgment. Maybe I was wrong to tell Harry to call for your election."

Kingsley's eyes met hers. "You told him?"

"We both thought you could be trusted. Clearly I misjudged you, Minister."

"This is why you should have accepted the job I offered you, Rebecca," Kingsley said, taking a step toward her. "You think so many steps ahead of everyone else. You are perfectly made for politics."

"I'm ambitious, but I don't want to be Minister. Obviously, Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he denied the position so many times. The position corrupts those who take on the duties."

Kingsley gaped at her, searching for the words so he could retort her accusation.

"First it's Greyback, next who else?" Rebecca said. "It's a slippery slope, Minister. I only hope you don't disappoint me again."

She started for the door.

"Rebecca—"

"You clearly can't help me, so this conversation is over," she replied, opening the door and passing through it.

Kingsley stood in the center of the room, looking at the doorway she'd just walked through. He sighed heavily.

Rebecca didn't sleep that night, too angry at Severus and at Kingsley. She warded her quarters against Severus for the first time. She had been determined never to have to have decisions made for her when she'd been released from her masters of the war. But Severus had not thought about that. She understood that he meant it as a gesture of some sort for her, something to show that he cared and would always protect her. But she could protect herself. She could make her own decisions.

The next morning, Rebecca was shrinking and packing all of her belongings in a fury. She no longer wanted to stay in the castle. She couldn't be so close to Severus right now, still so angry with him. She had to get away and calm down before she could even talk to him again.

Just before mid-day, her packing was complete. She swung the bag over her shoulder and was prepared to leave when a "crack!" resounded in the sitting room. She whirled around, wand pointed, and found Kreacher standing upon her coffee table. The house elf bowed, and Rebecca quickly lowered her wand.

"Master Harry has sent Kreacher with a message for Miss Rebecca," Kreacher said, holding out a scrap of parchment.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Rebecca said, taking the note from him.

_Becca,_

_Greyback escaped from Azkaban when he was told he was to be given the Kiss tomorrow. He forced himself to change, something none of us thought was possible. In his fury to escape, he broke out the Carrows and nearly every other Death Eater on his floor. All of them got off the island. The guards couldn't stop them. Many of the Death Eaters are armed with the guards' wands. Go to Grimmauld Place, and take Professor Snape with you. They'll come after you two first. The Aurors are all out searching for them._

_No heroic acts, Becca. You can't take them all out at once. Please. Go to Grimmauld Place._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Rebecca looked up at Kreacher, who watched her carefully.

"Kreacher is here to bring back Miss Rebecca and Professor Snape to the noble house of Black."

Rebecca let Harry's note fall from her grip. "I won't be going to Grimmauld Place."

"Master Harry told Kreacher Miss Rebecca would not wish to cooperate."

"Kreacher, what they're going to do to Greyback is inhumane."

"Master Harry said the half-breed had hurt Miss Rebecca badly when she was in school," the house elf said, inclining his head slightly. "But Kreacher sees Miss Rebecca is upset about what they wish to do about the half-breed."

"I don't agree with the Kiss, no," Rebecca said. "Not even when it's used on someone who did hurt me."

Kreacher looked at her, seeming uncertain what to say.

"Kreacher," Rebecca said, her voice shaking, "as a Black, I command that you allow me to leave."

The house elf gave a low bow. "Kreacher does as Miss Rebecca tells him to."

"Thank you," she said, nodding to him. "I'm sorry."

She turned and left her quarters quickly. Kreacher watched the witch exit the room before bending at the waist to pick up the discarded note from Master Harry. He considered the text momentarily before knowing that he had to move on to his next target: Professor Snape. He Disapparated and appeared in the next room, where the wizard stood from his chair and pointed a wand at him.

"Kreacher," the wizard said, lowering his wand.

"Kreacher has been sent by Master Harry with a note."

He handed the man his note and waited, watching as the wizard read Master Harry's writing.

"And where is Rebecca?" Professor Snape asked.

"Miss Rebecca commanded Kreacher to allow her to leave. Miss Rebecca is a member of the Black family, and Kreacher listens to Miss Rebecca's orders."

The man bared his teeth and crushed Master Harry's letter in his fist. "Where did she go?"

"Miss Rebecca did not tell Kreacher where she went. Kreacher must take Professor Snape to the noble house of Black, as Master Harry told him to."

Without waiting, he reached for Professor Snape's robes and snatched them into his grasp. He Disapparated without a moment's hesitation, though the wizard began to yell. They appeared in the parlor of Grimmauld Place a second later.

Severus found himself face-to-face with the Boy Who Lived.

"Where's Rebecca?" Potter asked.

A crease appeared between his brows and his lips thinned. "It appears she commanded Kreacher to let her leave without being apprehended and did not tell him where she went. However, I can certainly guess where she has gone."

"Kreacher, why did you let Rebecca go?" Potter asked the house elf.

"Miss Rebecca is a Black. Kreacher listens when a Black orders something of Kreacher."

Potter closed his eyes, then stood straight and looked at Severus. "We have to find her."

"I will do so."

"Not with ten Death Eaters and Greyback out there, coming after you."

"After more than a year incarcerated, I am dubious that they will immediately seek me out," Severus said. "I will find Miss Felan and return her here and make certain she does not leave. You have Death Eaters to catch, Potter."

"Professor, wait, I have to give you permission to re-enter the house," Potter called after him.

Severus stopped his forward progress and turned to face the boy, who handed him a slip of parchment with a hastily scribbled line upon it. Severus took it quickly, but Potter wouldn't let it go. Severus glared at him.

"Did you have something to do with Greyback?"

"Why would you think so?"

"There's no reason Kingsley would go back on his banning, and Rebecca wrote me a letter this morning telling me she wasn't going to be staying at Hogwarts for a few days," Harry said.

"Kingsley owed me a favour," Severus said evenly.

"And you didn't tell her. Why?"

Severus frowned at him. "Release the parchment so that I may go find her, Potter, before she does something moronic."

"Good luck."

Severus left the house quickly, his mind racing to determine where not only she would go to wait for Greyback and the other Death Eaters to appear, but where the Death Eaters were most likely to go. She would have been tempted to go to the Burrow first, but Arthur would already know of the escape. All of the Ministry employees would have been alerted. Lupin's residence was next, but he was also going to be aware. Malfoy Manor was both the most likely place she would go to first check on the inhabitants and to await Greyback's arrival. That was where he Apparated when the door to Grimmauld Place shut behind him.

Rebecca stood in the entryway of Malfoy Manor, watching the gate. Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco sat in the formal dining room just off the entryway, their wands clasped tightly in their hands. The house elves, too, crowded the dining room, standing about their masters, prepared to utilise their own magic to protect their masters.

"They cannot get past our wards," Lucius said. "Bill, the curse breaker, even checked their strength at my behest. No one whose magical signature has not been registered by either Narcissa or me can get past."

Rebecca nodded. "I understand, Lucius. But desperate people with magic are the most dangerous people. You know that."

Lucius was quiet.

"Do you believe they will truly come here first?" Narcissa asked.

"It's the most likely." She paused. "Someone's coming."

The Malfoys were on their feet, wands at the ready. Rebecca glared out the window.

"It's Severus."

"The gates will allow him through," Lucius said.

Rebecca waited until Severus was just at the door, then opened it and stood behind it to allow him entrance. She shut the door as she heard him step into the dining room with the Malfoys. He turned around as soon as the door shut and glared at her.

"What you are attempting to do is ridiculous."

"The fact that you're trying to protect me like I'm still a child is ridiculous," she replied.

"Severus, do you have something to do with all of this?" Narcissa asked.

He closed his eyes out of frustration. "I petitioned Kingsley to give Greyback the Kiss."

"Because he's a half-breed," Rebecca said.

"Enough," Severus said, stepping toward her. He grasped her upper arm. "I am taking you to Grimmauld Place and you will stay there until Greyback is caught."

Rebecca pulled from his grip. "I don't have any masters except for myself, thanks. He's threatening the people I care about, and I won't hesitate to kill him this time to make sure he doesn't do that again."

"You will not place me in the same category as Albus and the Dark Lord."

Draco stepped forward. "Though the uncomfortable tension caused by your arrival is much more appreciated than a Death Eater attack, Severus, perhaps you should both stay with us until we know what's going to happen."

His ice blue eyes darted from Rebecca's face to Severus'. The older wizard allowed his shoulders to relax slightly.

"Very well."

No sooner had the words come from his lips than a bright light appeared between the three of them. It formed into a Labrador Retriever, its mouth opening and Remus' voice coming out.

"The Death Eaters are at Andromeda's. Come quickly. Our wards will only hold them off for so long."

The dog didn't have time to disappear before Rebecca's eyes grew wide.

"Teddy," she whispered.

She was out the door before anyone could reach to stop her. Once outside of the gates, she turned on the spot to Apparate, seeing the others running after her just as she disappeared. She reappeared behind Andromeda's house, glad she had examined the photographs of the new home when they'd been pressed into her hands.

Lights flashed in the windows of the house, and Rebecca ran for the back door. She heard the others appearing behind her, but she was already inside the house. Andromeda and Remus were holding the Death Eaters, led by the Carrows, at bay. Four Death Eaters were already Stunned, on the ground. Off to one side was Teddy's area of the living room, distinguished by the baby gate. Greyback stood before it, bending to snatch up the small boy, his hair still the ginger colour he favoured.

"Let him go!" Rebecca yelled, stepping further into the room.

Her voice silenced the commotion in the room, and she heard the Malfoys and Severus enter the house behind her. Greyback held Teddy in his giant paws, claws digging into the material of the infant's clothing. Remus and Andromeda were held at wand-point, unable to move.

"Becca."

The boy's voice wavered, his hands reached up to grab at the werewolf's hands grasping him as he futilely struggled to get away.

"You don't want him," Rebecca said. "You wanted me to come. I'm here, so put him down."

"Your wand," Greyback said.

"Rebecca, do not give in."

She ignored Severus' harsh whisper from behind her and stepped forward, holding her wand by its tip as she extended it toward Greyback. Holding onto Teddy Lupin with one giant hand, he reached out to take Rebecca's wand from her. He grinned, showing the sharpened, uneven teeth.

"Glad we could come to an agreement, little snake," Greyback said, bending down once more to put Teddy back in his play area.

He beckoned to her, and Rebecca stepped closer. Greyback grabbed the back of her neck and twirled her about, forcing her back up against his chest, her wand now pressed into her throat. His head lowered from his great height and his lips pressed against her ear. Rebecca stayed perfectly still.

"All of you give up your wands," he said. His voice boomed in Rebecca's ear, but she held still.

The only one who hesitated was Severus. Rebecca's eyes met his, and the black orbs shone with his rage.

"Severus. Yer wand," Greyback said. He pressed Rebecca's wand tip harder into her neck, and she took in a sharp breath and leaned away from him, but his hand held her firmly.

Finally, Severus tossed his wand to one of the Death Eaters. The Carrows turned to revive their fallen companions while the others ushered Remus and Andromeda to the Malfoys and Severus. Narcissa held her sister tightly as the other witch began silently crying.

"Greyback, my _son_," Remus said, staring over Rebecca's head at the large wizard.

"Yer son will live as long as _she _doesn't do anything stupid," Greyback said. "Take them upstairs. Me and the little snake have some unfinished business."

Rebecca stopped her want to tremble as the others were led out of the room. She had no idea what she was going to do. Normal magic affected the werewolf differently than most, and because of both his lycanthropy and his great size, there was no guarantee that her magic, without its concentration through her wand, would work at all upon him. One wrong move and Teddy was dead.

But the rest of them would need help. Severus was the only one proficient enough in wandless and nonverbal spells to risk such a thing, and no doubt that he would. But how much time would she have before Greyback figured out something was wrong and killed Teddy anyway? Would she be able to use her quickness to get the baby out of there in time?

"I see yer mind working," Greyback said in her ear once more. "Smart as a bird for being a snake. But I figured yeh out, Felan. I knew you'd go to the Malfoys."

"That's a mistake I won't have to worry about making again," Rebecca said evenly.

Greyback chuckled. "That's right. 'Cause they'll be dead."

"No, because I'll kill you."

She managed to move her head just enough that she could see him over her shoulder. His grip upon her neck tightened, his claws digging into her scalp. She clenched her jaw.

"Becca."

"It's gonna be okay, Teddy," she said to the child.

"Teach him a lie early," Greyback said. "His mummy probably told him the same thing, but he won't remember that. But he'll remember what I'm gonna do to you."

His hand moved from her neck, both of his reaching out to take her by her upper arms. But Rebecca had felt his muscles making preliminary movements before his hand even released her from his grip. By the time his hands were moving to grip her more firmly, Rebecca was moving, turning, ducking, hands gripped into fists. She punched one of his hands away with her right hand while her left fist connected with his jaw.

The extra moment that Greyback used to close his eyes allowed Rebecca to run away from him, toward the kitchen. Once away, she leaned down and retrieved the Black dagger from its holster at her ankle. She held it in her left hand and turned just as Greyback was entering the kitchen, her wand no longer in his hands, and her dagger now hidden behind her back.

"You're not going to do anything to me in front of him," she said firmly. "You've scarred the father. Leave the son alone."

"I'll do whatever to yeh wherever I want, Felan," Greyback growled, the feral noise not sounding unusual coming from the man's lips.

"You didn't even give yourself enough time to fully reverse the change, Greyback," Rebecca said, backing up until she ran into the counter.

"Changin' under great stress isn't unheard of, but it's somethin' we keep quiet." He looked her up and down. "Leaves me with little patience. Makes me want my blood now, but I'll savour what I'm gonna do to yeh as much as my wolf will let me."

He paused as he took another step toward her. Less than two metres away and closing, Rebecca thought. Another step. Closer.

"My only regret is not bein' the first to tear yeh apart," Greyback said, lowering his face until he was even with hers. His breath was hot, smelling of the dingy meals he'd been served at Azkaban.

Rebecca forced herself to lower her eyes momentarily, made her body tremble at his words. When she met Greyback's gaze again, he was grinning, his eyes alight with a new fire.

"Interesting," he said, putting an arm on either side of her, blocking her in.

Her breaths came in and out quickly through her nose, making quite the noise. But it only fueled him further closer.

"Seems yer not the slut the papers made ya out to be, little snake," Greyback said. "It'll make it that much sweeter when I hear yer screams, when I can taste yer blood."

Rebecca's eyes were wide as his face grew ever closer to hers. His eyes closed as he took in her scent.

"Fear… Just like last time."

Her hands and back braced against the counter, the force of Rebecca's left knee striking his balls was formidable enough to make Fenrir Greyback rear up long enough that she was able to dart around him. She jumped when she was behind him. Greyback had stooped slightly within the two seconds that had passed, so it was not such a great height any longer.

Her right hand gripped the pommel of the dagger, and that was the arm she wrapped around his giant neck. The blade of the dagger lay flat against his windpipe. When her left arm came upward, synchronised with the movements of her right arm, she forced her arm back against the flat side of the blade.

Rebecca now hung from Greyback's shoulders, the only thing holding her up being the dagger about the werewolf's throat. She flexed her left arm slightly, her body lifting a little farther up his back and forcing a greater pressure on his windpipe. He gasped, a sickening, gurgling sound.

From above her, Rebecca heard sounds of scuffling. She clenched her jaw, flexing her left arm further. She went up once more. Now the blade of the dagger dug slightly into the flesh of her arm, but this was of little concern to her. It wouldn't poison her.

"I didn't ask for you to be Kissed," she said, his ear nearly level with her lips. "That's too cruel even for someone like you."

His nails clawed at her hands, but Rebecca held firmly, much too focused on this one action to feel much of the pain he caused her.

"I was searching for a way to spare you that fate," she said, flexing her arm once more. She was now above his shoulders, still only holding her weight up with her own arms. "And this is the way you'll die, if you choose death over the Kiss."

Rebecca glanced down at him, and his blue eyes were wide with the panic that comes just before death.

"Submit," Rebecca said, her voice low. Greyback gurgled again. She clenched the muscles of her left arm as tightly as she could, her face now even with his.

"Do you see how it feels to be so powerless?" she said, her voice loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen. "Do you understand? DO YOU!"

Greyback attempted to take in another breath of air, so Rebecca's only response was a choking sound.

"I said _submit_!" she yelled.

Greyback dropped to his knees, his claws no longer digging into her skin to pull them away from his throat. He slapped the counter with his right hand. Rebecca released the grip of her left arm, holding the dagger against his throat. Greyback barely held himself up with his arms, taking in giant, heaving breaths. Rebecca pushed one of his arms down, and it fell to the ground with a loud "thud!"

She stepped around him, the dagger always at his throat. When she stood before him, she looked down her nose at him.

"How many women have you hurt?" she asked, barely able to open her mouth as she spoke.

Greyback took in another breath before he could give so much as a rasp in response.

"Many."

"How many children did you bite?"

"Twenty."

Rebecca stared down at him, finally switching the dagger from her right hand to her left. The noise upstairs had stopped. Her right hand reached out and fumbled to the shelf she stood beside. She found a large bowl and thrust it in front of him.

"Give me your memories," she told him. "Now."

He released the memories, and they came pouring from his orifices like water from a tap. The flow stopped after a few seconds, and the bowl was full. Rebecca set it on the counter and put both hands upon the pommel of her dagger.

"I'm giving you a choice, Greyback," she said. "The choice you would never have given me. Take this death I'm offering you, or the Kiss is your alternative."

His chest still heaving, Greyback's blue eyes flicked upward, meeting her even gaze.

"Why?" His voice was a half-whisper, half wheeze.

"I want to show you the kindness you never would've shown me."

"_Why_?"

Quick steps coming down the staircase. The presence of non-hostile bodies entering the room. Rebecca did not spare them a glance. Greyback's gaze held her own, as if she were performing Legilimency on him and her magic held them together.

"Because killing you will be the only way I can regain the power you stole from me that night," she whispered.

Greyback's large hand reached upward, gripping her left arm and pulling her closer toward him. The blade of the dagger, with such force behind it, began to press against his skin.

"Rebecca, no!"

Remus' voice was not enough to break the intense gaze between Fenrir and Rebecca. She heard a scuffle, but no one interrupted them. Greyback's free hand reached up and gripped the back of Rebecca's head, but she stayed completely still. Acceptance filled his eyes— the longing for a simple death.

Greyback rose on his knees, bringing himself to Rebecca's eye level.

"I submit," he said, voice gravelly.

The cry that emitted from her lips didn't sound like her own. Rebecca pressed forward, Greyback's grip upon her offering the bracing that she needed to shove the dagger through the skin of his throat, through his windpipe and the carotid artery. His grip went slack immediately, and Greyback fell to the floor. Rebecca stood over him, breathing heavily as Greyback's eyes went blank within seconds of his body hitting the floor.

She dropped the dagger onto the floor and leaned over as she heard lots of movement behind her. Rebecca retrieved her wand from inside Greyback's robes. When she looked up, Draco was the only one remaining in the kitchen.

"How did you all escape?" she asked.

"Severus overpowered the Carrows first, and then it was a steady decline for the Death Eaters after that," Draco said. "They're all upstairs, Stunned and bound, waiting for Potter and the other Aurors to pick them up."

He looked past her at Greyback's body before turning his eyes back on Rebecca.

"I supposed we should all wait here," he said. "Come on."

His hand reached for her elbow without hesitation, and Rebecca let him guide her into the living room.

"Becca, your arms."

Remus held Teddy tightly, the boy's face in his chest, but Remus' eyes were wide and staring at the blood running down her arms.

"We'll take care of them once the Aurors have seen what they need to," she said. "I assume someone's sent for them?"

"I sent Harry a Patronus message," Remus said.

Rebecca's eyes swept the room. "Where's Severus?"

"He's gone," Lucius said.

Rebecca shook her head. It was moments later that Harry and ten other Aurors entered through the back door of Andromeda's home. Harry immediately rushed to her and Draco, still standing beside one another.

"What—?"

"Greyback's memories are in a bowl on the counter in the kitchen. The Black dagger I used to kill him is lying on the ground beside him. I cut his throat."

"Run-through, more like," Draco said with a glance to Rebecca.

"Draco!" Narcissa said.

"Rebecca appears to be going for a full-disclosure approach, so I figured I may as well amend her statement," Draco said with a shrug.

Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"He threatened Teddy, Remus, and Andromeda. Then he threatened the Malfoys and Severus. Then he threatened to rape and kill me in front of Teddy unless I cooperated. I led him into the kitchen and choked him until he submitted, then I forced him to give me all of his memories of hurting women and biting children. I gave him a choice, death or Kiss, and he chose death."

Harry blinked, then brought Rebecca into a hug. She shut her eyes and held onto her friend tightly.

"You're not going to Azkaban. Kingsley's going to give you another award," Harry said breathlessly. "And now you've saved him from making a terrible mistake with the Kiss."

"Tell Kingsley to keep his medal and his thanks to himself," Rebecca said.

Harry nodded, then looked to Draco. "Make sure she gets healed up. I have to take a look at Greyback."

"No problem, Potter. We'll take good care of her."

Narcissa rushed over to fuss over her wounds. Between she and Draco, they managed to heal her wounds fairly easily. When that was complete, and while she was awaiting the ruling of the Aurors, Rebecca turned to Andromeda.

"I'm sorry that this had to take place here, especially in your kitchen," she said quietly, her hand on the woman's shoulder.

"You did what you had to do in order to save my grandson," Andromeda said, taking Rebecca's hand from her shoulder and grasping it tightly. "Messes can be cleaned. Another Teddy can't be made."

Rebecca nodded, giving as much of a smile as she could at the moment.

"Becca."

She chuckled, turning around to face Remus, who still held Teddy tightly. The small boy reached toward her, his arms extended as far as they could go. With a quick glance at Remus before she did so, she reached forward and took Teddy from Remus, holding him gently. The infant put his hands around her neck and hugged her.

"Becca."

Rebecca smiled. "I didn't know your mother that well, but I still loved her," she told the boy, who was too busy playing with her hair, and much too young, to care for her words. "I will _always_ protect you. It's the least I can do for her. And for you."

She bounced the child slightly, though her arms felt like rubber underneath him. Her grip held strong, and she carried him about the living room to relieve some of her own tension and to keep the boy happy until Harry finally returned. He smiled at Teddy, ruffling the ginger hair atop his head.

"We'll just be taking statements from everyone now, and then we'll go back to the Ministry," he said. "But from what we saw in the kitchen and from the Death Eaters upstairs, you're not going to be in danger."

Remus now stood beside Rebecca, reaching forward to take back his son. She relinquished her hold upon the boy easily, though his hold on her hair was another thing. Harry had to help her remove Teddy's fingers from her hair as he spoke.

"I looked through Greyback's memories quickly," he said. "But I watched what he put in the bowl of today. It'll dispute any wrongdoing on your part." Harry paused as Rebecca's last strand of hair was released from Teddy's hold. "He wanted that death, in any case. I don't think Kingsley will mind this death over the Kiss."

"He better well not," Remus muttered. "Telling him like that made things worse. Kingsley should be ashamed of how he handled this."

"I'm sure he is," Harry said. "But I'll be sure to reiterate the point, Remus, don't worry."

He looked to Rebecca, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She nodded. "Better. Not fully recovered. But I'll get there." Her smile was miniscule, but Harry looked comforted.

"Are you going back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"I don't think Severus will be very welcoming right now," Rebecca said. "If you don't mind, Remus, Andromeda, I'd like to stay here for a while, if I could."

"We'd welcome you," the older witch said, standing beside Narcissa just a few feet away, an Auror before the two of them.

"Know you're welcome at Grimmauld Place, too, should you want," Harry said. "D'you have your things?"

"I shrunk the bag. It's in my cloak. I'm fine."

Harry nodded, finally letting his hand slip from its place on her shoulder. "We have to take the dagger—"

"Keep it for all I care," Rebecca said. "I don't think I'll need it anymore."

Harry stared at her for a moment before nodding, comprehension slowly crossing his features. "All right. Well, you know where you can reach me."

He hugged her, and Rebecca clutched Harry tightly before letting him go.

"I passed my Mastery yesterday," she said as she pulled away. "But in all this commotion, I didn't know when the best time to give the news would be."

"That's great to hear, Becca!" Harry said, grinning. "Does that mean you're staying?"

She opened her mouth, but hesitated. "I don't know yet."

Harry frowned. "Think about it. Hard. We all want you to stay."

Remus stayed quiet, trying to lull Teddy into a calmer state with his tranquil rocking.

"I know. But I don't know if I'm ready. I'll explain later if I can."

"Okay." Harry nodded. "Listen, I have to go. Just answer the other Aurors' questions and things will be fine."

It was not so simple. The Aurors were thorough, Rebecca was both glad of and irritated with. It took nearly an hour before they were all gone, including the cleanup of Greyback's remains and the removal of the Death Eaters from upstairs. Finally, it was just the Malfoys, Remus and his son, Andromeda, and Rebecca that remained in the house.

"All of you are more than welcome to return to Malfoy Manor with us," Lucius said. "It may be easier to rest there."

"That's kind of you, Lucius, but Death Eaters took my home from me once before and I won't have them running me out of it now," Andromeda said firmly.

After a few more minutes, the Malfoys said their goodbyes. Rebecca finally sat in one of the armchairs in the living room, letting the cushioning billow around her momentarily before she sunk further into the chair.

"I'll take Teddy for a while," she heard Andromeda say. "Then we can discuss what to do for dinner."

She heard more movement, and then Andromeda's footfalls going up the steps. Slowly, Remus' more heavy steps made their way to her. She glanced up at him. He stood before her, simply looking at her, before finally extending his hand out to her. Rebecca took it and quickly found herself being hoisted out of the chair. Remus embraced her tightly, crushing her between his chest and arms. She didn't struggle, though she felt the want to panic rise within her.

"You brilliant girl," Remus said. "I swear to Merlin, if you ever do something like that again…"

"Your son won't need rescuing from the likes of him anymore," Rebecca said, chin resting on his shoulder as she hugged him in return, though perhaps not as fiercely. "So I don't see a repeat being necessary."

"Thank you."

He finally loosened his grip, and Rebecca pulled back and sat in the chair once more. Remus took a seat across from her on the sturdy coffee table.

"Tell me why you don't want to stay, even after all that just happened."

His look was steady, even. In fact, Rebecca couldn't recall ever seeing him looking so at-ease. The weight Greyback had been forcing on his shoulders had always been great, and with his son, too, being threatened, the other werewolf's death would be a great relief. Now he waited for her, non-judgmental as always. Ever the proper friend, always the one willing to offer a kind word of advice, now coming to her rescue again.

Rebecca couldn't let the words escape just yet. She wasn't certain how she felt about it being in the open, airing it out for others to view and interpret.

"I won't tell anyone unless you give me permission," Remus said.

"I know. It's a long story."

"I have as much time as it takes, and then some."

Rebecca explained what happened, starting from her arrival. Edits were made for brevity's sake, but for the most part, her words were like an unleashed waterfall. Remus only interrupted for clarification, or to ask her to repeat if she spoke too quickly. Other than that, he was completely silent, ever-attentive.

It took Rebecca thirty minutes to complete her tale of her stay at Hogwarts over the summer. Remus looked at her as she stared at her hands.

"I was going to give you my usually sage advice," Remus said, leaning forward. "But something tells me you've come to my conclusion on your own."

"To go back to Hogwarts and stay on as Potions Mistress," Rebecca said. "Be the Head of Slytherin House."

"Remain here, with your friends. Former professors. People that care for you."

"People in America care for me, too."

"But not as we do." Remus smiled. "Personally, I think you're being argumentative for the sake of it."

"Or perhaps I'm not yet ready to return to Hogwarts and face him."

"Why?"

"Because that conversation I'm not looking forward to." She stood awkwardly, Remus being so close to her on the coffee table. "If you don't mind my using the loo, I'd like a shower. Then I'll help make dinner."

"The former you're more than welcome to," Remus said, leaning back so she could pass him. He stood to show her the way. "The latter I will handle. It's the least I can do for the person who saved Teddy's life."

"Albeit in a roundabout manner that could've possibly scarred him for life," Rebecca said with a shrug.

Remus shook his head.

* * *

"So this is what you meant / When you said that you were spent. / And now it's time to build from the bottom of the pit / Right to the top, / Don't hold back. / Packing my bags and giving the academy a rain check. / I don't ever want to let you down. / I don't ever want to leave this town. / 'Cause after all, / The city never sleeps at night. / It's time to begin, isn't it? / I get a little bit bigger, but then I'll admit, / I'm just the same as I was. / Now don't you understand / That I'm never changing who I am. / … This road never looked so lonely. / This house doesn't burn down slowly / To ashes, to ashes. / It's time to begin, isn't it? / I get a little bit bigger, but then I'll admit, / I'm just the same as I was. / Now don't you understand / That I'm never changing who I am." – "It's Time" by Imagine Dragon

_A Visit to Grimmauld Place, August 23, 1999_

Harry tentatively answered the knock at the door of Grimmauld Place early the next morning. He smiled when he saw Rebecca waiting patiently on his stoop. He ushered her inside and into the living room, where Ginny sat with a cup of tea.

"Would you like a cup, Becca?"

"No, Ginny, but thank you."

"What do we owe the visit to?" Harry asked, sitting beside his wife. Ginny leaned against Harry, and his arm draped around her shoulders.

"I'm staying," Rebecca said with a smile.

"As in not going back to America?" Harry asked.

Rebecca nodded. "I already sent a letter to Minister Smith. He's setting my plans for promotion into play as we speak."

"You're sure?" Harry asked.

Ginny lightly smacked his thigh. "She said she's staying. Hug her!"

Rebecca stood in anticipation of Harry's reaction and received him just in time. Her friend was laughing and grasping her so tightly Rebecca was sure she'd have to push him away so she could breathe. But he held her at arms' length quickly and looked at her.

"You do realize we have to tell everyone, right?" he said.

"Let me do that," Rebecca said. "I'm going to Hogwarts tomorrow to give my official consent."

Harry grinned. "D'you have any idea how happy I am to hear this?"

"I think she has an idea, Harry," Ginny said, smiling wryly at her husband and pushing his hand off Rebecca's shoulder. "Now let me congratulate her."

Harry had to hurry off to work, but Ginny had the day off from St. Mungo's. The two women had the remainder of the day to begin planning and executing a dinner, sending out the invitations via Kreacher as quickly as the elf could deliver the messages. By that night, the basement kitchen was decorated and smelling wonderful.

Just after Harry arrived home from the Ministry, their guests began to arrive. Soon, the living room was filled with Weasleys, Malfoys, Andromeda, Remus, and Teddy. Once everyone was settled and had a drink in their hands, Harry called the crowd to order.

"I'm sure you've all been wondering why we've called you here tonight."

"No, Potter, we just thought you _enjoyed _feeding this many people on random Thursday evenings," Draco said, smirking.

George laughed, sparking more chuckles throughout the gathered friends. Harry rolled his eyes.

"It concerns our dear friend Becca," he said, motioning to Rebecca, who stood beside him. "And she would like to tell you herself exactly what's going on."

"Thanks, Harry," Rebecca said, smiling at him before looking about the room at large.

Her eyes scanned the gathered crowd, all looking at her anxiously.

"Well, come on, then!" shouted George.

Rebecca laughed, covering her mouth with her hands in her happiness. She glanced at those standing nearest to her, her hands slowly lowering and resting by her sides. The room was silent, Molly having hushed her son.

"I'm going to accept the position of Potions Mistress tomorrow," Rebecca said. "I'm staying."

The roar from those present was great enough that Rebecca's laughing couldn't be heard over it. They all rushed to hug her, and Rebecca didn't fear at being overwhelmed. Let the feelings come—nothing could remove the grin from her face or what felt like her heart singing for the love of her friends showing their support and glee at her announcement.

It took some time for things to settle down, but it was finally Draco that called for dinner, relieving Rebecca from further possible suffocation by hugging. Gathered around the large table, the scene felt as though a rather large and extended family had gathered for a meal as they normally might for a grand holiday. The camaraderie in the room felt palpable, and the conversations she could hear were amiable.

Her seat placed her between Harry on her left and Draco on her right, their significant others beside each of them. Hermione, across from her along with Ron, suddenly stood in the middle of dinner, wine glass held aloft.

"A toast to Rebecca Felan," she said, glancing around the table before her eyes finally rested on the woman in her speech. "To Rebecca, for finally coming to her senses. For doing something she enjoys. For the students she'll ultimately lead to greatness. And, finally, for overcoming all adversity to be able to reach this decision."

"To Rebecca!" the rest of the company shouted, followed by numerous wine glasses touching one another.

A silence overcame them as drinks were taken from their glasses. In the silence, Rebecca found her mind wandering to the meeting she held tomorrow with the Headmistress and Deputy Headmaster. His anger was known to last for days, but would it be to her detriment?

The talk at the table quickly picked up, and Rebecca was swept into conversation once more. The night moved along quickly, and the drinks began to flow more freely once dinner was consumed. Harry ushered everyone up into the living area, leaving the kitchen to a few people to stay behind and help with the spells to clean up. Once upstairs, Rebecca was lost to the time that was passing.

Eventually, a possibly drunk Harry Potter approached her, grinning.

"Ginny says you're staying here tonight."

"I am," Rebecca said, nodding.

"Good. 'Cause I think you're too drunk to Apparate anywhere else."

Rebecca laughed. "Me? Too drunk? I think you're a bit confused, Harry."

He chuckled. A long pause fell between them.

"Listen, Becca," Harry said, looking down to the drink cupped in his hand and back up at her once more, "I'm really glad you're staying. Gin and I want to start a family eventually, and it would mean a lot to us if you were around."

Rebecca smiled pleasantly. "I'd always be there for your yet-to-be-born children, Harry, no matter where I physically was. You know that."

"Yeah, but it makes godmothering difficult."

Rebecca's face reverted to neutrality. Harry pointed a finger at her.

"No, no. None of that, now," he said. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm… just a little shocked, honestly."

"Don't be," Harry said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You deserve to be able to spoil a kid or two." He smirked.

Rebecca reached forward and hugged Harry to her tightly. They stood together for a moment before Harry began to speak again. He leaned against her heavily, and she mostly supported his stance. Rebecca was sure she'd have to find Ginny at some point.

"I've been toying with an idea I wanted to run past you."

"What is it?"

"How d'you think Snape would react if I wanted to name one of our kids after him?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed slightly as he even now tried to picture the man's reaction.

Rebecca blinked. "I can tell you he wouldn't be flattered."

"Right. But, d'you think he'd be that mad—really?"

"Harry, maybe you shouldn't talk about these sorts of things when you're drunk… or when Ginny isn't even pregnant," Rebecca said, patting his shoulder. She paused. "Ginny's not pregnant, is she?"

"Noooo. We're not quite ready for that, though George says Bill and Fleur are trying their damnedest."

"And that part of the conversation is over," Rebecca said, steering Harry toward a chair.

She sat him down in it, choosing to stand beside it for now. Harry peered up at her.

"Has anything changed between you and Snape?" he asked. "I really just want you to be happy, Becca, and I know how you've always felt about him."

"We're definitely not talking about that," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

"Come on!"

Rebecca sighed. "No. Things are, essentially, the same as when I left last year."

"Oh." Harry's expression fell. Then he took the last sip from his drink. "Are you all right?"

"Better than I've been in a long time," Rebecca said with a smile. "Enough of this. I'm happy I'm staying, Harry. I don't want to leave. I won't let my friends down again."

"You never let us down, Becca, not even for an instant."

"Even when I almost got myself killed?"

"Even then," Harry said, leaning back against the chair, stretching. He sighed. "We all love you, Becca. I'm glad you're staying."

"I love the lot of you, too, even when you're drunk and talking nonsense," Rebecca said, placing her hand atop Harry's head and messing up his hair.

Rebecca spotted Ginny and waved her over. The other redhead approached, and sighed as she looked upon her husband.

"Oh, Harry… You have work tomorrow," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"And I'll be just fine by then, thanks," replied Harry, smiling.

"That's right you will be. You're cut off." Ginny snatched his empty glass away from him.

"In my own house. Gin, you wound me." Harry clutched his chest, and Ginny giggled.

Rebecca chose that moment to make her escape from the happy couple. She was intercepted by Remus, his hand gripping her upper arm to get her attention. She smiled as she turned to him, and he dropped her arm from his grasp.

"You're doing the right thing," he said.

"It feels like it," she replied, nodding.

"Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks. I'm sure I'll need it."

* * *

"Close enough to start a war. / All that I have is on the floor. / God only knows what we're fighting for. / All that I say, you always say more. / I can't keep up with your turning tables, / Under your thumb, I can't breathe. / So I won't let you close enough to hurt me. / No, I won't rescue you to just desert me. / I can't give you what you think you gave me. / It's time to say goodbye to turning tables, to turning tables." – "Turning Tables" by Adele

_Meeting with the Headmistress & Deputy Headmaster, August 24, 1999_

Rebecca entered the Headmistress' office early the next morning and was surprised to only see Minerva seated behind her desk.

"Good morning, Rebecca," the older witch said with a smile. "Severus won't be joining us. He's setting up the Potions classroom at the moment."

Rebecca nodded as she walked across the room. She stopped behind the chair situated before the grand desk and gripped the back of it.

"Well, I don't think it'll be necessary for him to do that any longer," Rebecca said, watching Minerva's reaction.

The Headmistress' expression did not change for a moment. Then, her brows furrowed.

"Are you telling me, Rebecca, that you have passed your Mastery test?"

"I have."

"And that you are willing to take up the open post?"

"If you'll still have me, it would be my honour to be the Potions Mistress and Head of Slytherin House," Rebecca said with a smile.

Minerva's own smile was sudden and brilliant. She stood and came around the desk.

"Forgive the unprofessional tone this meeting has taken, my dear, but I find it quite necessary," she said, reaching out and hugging Rebecca. "I did not wish to see you leave any more than I wanted to hire our other options."

Rebecca chuckled. "I'm glad I could please you."

Minerva released her from her hold. "Severus has been quite cross since your debacle the other day with Greyback," she said. "I believe you should go to the dungeons and tell him your good news. Perhaps it will cheer him up."

"I doubt it, but I'll do that," she said.

"You can tell him to move his belongings back into the Defense professor's chambers," Minerva said.

"That, hopefully, _will_ make him happy," Rebecca said. "Until lunch, Minerva."

Rebecca turned and started for the door once more.

"Rebecca."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at the Headmistress.

"Thank you."

Rebecca smiled once more before exiting the room. Her trek down to the dungeons was a familiar one, with the sense of quiet dread building up within her with each step forward. By the time she reached the steps that led directly to the dungeons, she could feel her palms sweating. Rebecca wiped her hands upon her trousers and forced her mind to go blank.

She reached her old quarters and entered through this door. The room was completely empty, as all of her belongings had been shrunk and fit into her bag. She paused, listening to make certain that he was not using the lavatory at the moment, which he wasn't. He wasn't going to be setting up the Potions classroom at all; he had wanted to avoid her for as long as possible, particularly if she said that she was not staying. He would have left things unsaid between them, leaving a gap. And she hadn't expected any more or less of him.

Rebecca found him staring at his bookshelf, but not as though he were searching for a text. He looked like he was simply existing, thinking. Upon her entrance, he turned toward the sound of the door opening. His features immediately set into a frown, his brows so low over his eyes that Rebecca was afraid they might fall right off his face.

"Severus," she said, stopping a few feet from him.

"You were reckless, Rebecca," he said. His voice was loud, carrying across the distance between them. His tone was sharp, clipped. "I did_ not_ train you to be reckless." He took a step toward her. "You were careless and rash—and these are not traits which I instilled in you."

Rebecca waited to see if he would speak anymore, but his gaze was intense upon her. Finally, she opened her mouth.

"No," she said slowly. "You didn't instill those traits in me. Those were _my_ traits."

His lips thinned. "You gave no regard to yourself or the danger you put others in by acting as you did," he growled, lip raised in a sneer. "I do not find your behavior acceptable or befitting that of an individual meant to be entrusted with the lives and care of the students of this school."

"I did what I had to in order to show you that you're no longer the sole ruler of this relationship," Rebecca said, raising her voice to match his level. "You can pretend that I need your protection all that you'd like, but I can also protect myself. And I did. I took back what Greyback stole from me. I made my amends, and it was his decision how he died. _His _decision."

She stared evenly at him. Rebecca could see him shaking. His anger was as fresh as it had been when she'd snapped at him for his announcement concerning Greyback's fate.

"I do not know any longer why Minerva believes you to be the best candidate for professorship," Severus said.

"Well, it doesn't really matter what you think about that particular subject, Severus," Rebecca said quickly. "She's accepted my offer to stay on."

He went completely still. Rebecca watched him carefully.

"So, you can start moving your things back to the Defense professor's quarters," she said. "I can help you if you'd like."

"I will not need your assistance," he snapped.

Rebecca pursed her lips momentarily. "How long do you plan to be cross with me?"

Severus rounded upon her, his face suddenly so close it could nearly touch her own. He bared his teeth at her.

"You have no idea the distress that I was under while upstairs, knowing you were beneath with that _monster_," he said, his words coming out so quickly that Rebecca had trouble understanding him. "And now you act as though it was a simply a matter of you standing up for yourself against a bully."

"That's not—"

"He was not a fellow student attacking you for petty reasons," Severus said, voice raising to speak over her.

"I didn't—"

"You did not _think_. How can we trust you with students if your initial thought is to act stupidly Gryffindor and brusque with each action you perform?"

"You cannot expect to continue treating me as a child," Rebecca said, face becoming red with her own anger.

"I will treat you as you act," Severus growled.

"Don't you understand that I reacted like I did because you forced a decision upon me that I was uncomfortable with?"

"It had already been decided—"

"And you hadn't even thought to consult with me. You simply wanted Greyback gone because you thought that was what was in my best interest. I'm still your vulnerable Slytherin student in your eyes."

"If that were the case, the liberties I took with you would not have occurred," Severus said, his voice deadly low, grumbling.

Rebecca stared at him, unable to speak any longer. He looked back at her, his black eyes shining with his ire. She crossed her arms loosely, holding them low against her body.

"Do you realize that I've been in love with you the entirety of my adult life?"

Severus did not speak and his stance did not change.

"I was through with my three masters and I immediately allowed myself to have another master, even if it was of a different nature," she said quietly.

Severus opened his mouth to retort, but paused. She was correct. She did, in fact, have three masters during the war. And he knew he would not wish to have to take orders from himself on top of Albus and the Dark Lord, two of the most difficult wizards to please in the first place. He looked to her, but she appeared pensive, as if she did not realise that he was still in the room.

Finally, she glanced up, and her face had gone blank.

"I think it would be best that you gather your things now and get out of my quarters," she said evenly.

Silence filled the room. Severus finally shifted, his robes beginning to sway at his feet.

"Very well."

He took out his wand and waved it over his head in a giant, sweeping gesture. All of his items began flying through the air, gathering in one spot. As they sorted themselves, Severus shrunk them. He would simply put them all into a bag and transport them by hand. It would be less difficult than attempting to Floo everything from one room to the next.

Severus looked about, noticing that she had retreated from the room. Through his anger, he felt the numb sensation returning to him. The feeling he was more than accustomed to, but now he simply wished that it would disappear. He did not wish to feel anything, not even numbness, if that could even be possible. He turned back to his task and was out of the room within a few more minutes. Rebecca did not make another appearance, even as he left.


	19. First Struggles, August to October

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except Rebecca. I don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **Sorry about my long absence. Life and such—I'm sure you all know the drill. I'm trying to work on this daily, or at least every other day, before my classes start in late August.

On a separate note, I've noticed that Rebecca's mother's name has changed somewhere along the line. When we first meet her, she's Emily, and then she reappears as Rose, because apparently I got it in my head that was her name. So, Rebecca's mother is going to be known as Rose from here on out.

I hope you all enjoy.

* * *

_Before Term, August 25-31, 1999_

Severus was the first to arrive at the staff table the next morning for breakfast. Initially, he had held no desire to come out from his quarters or classroom for the day, but his own curiosity at the happenings the day before forced him out, to deal with the others. The remaining professors would begin filtering in to stay for the term today, with the students being in attendance by Monday.

He looked at the food set before him. A hearty breakfast, but one that would sit still before him until others entered the room. For now, Severus recalled.

Upon entering his classroom after depositing his belongings in his quarters, Severus discovered two things out of place in the Defense room. On the table in the front of the classroom sat an old copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ and something even more curious. As he approached the long table, Severus' hand reached out to touch the piece of fabric. He picked it up, bringing it closer to his face so that he could examine it. A handkerchief, one with his initials emblazoned upon it.

The handkerchief he had given to her the night she was attacked in her fifth year.

The hand holding the fabric slammed down upon the table, hard enough that the pain lingered for a long while. But all Severus could do was stare at the copy of his old potions book. She had returned the only objects that would remind her of him. The only objects that he had given her that she still possessed. The others she had returned the year before.

No. There was one more.

Severus gently lifted his hand from the handkerchief, walking around to the other side of the table, where books pertaining to the course could be stored for easy reaching. And there, on the shelf, sat the text on Patronuses he had purchased for her this summer. His head snapped back up, mind intent upon preparing his classroom for the start of term.

The doors to the Great Hall opened. Severus blinked, and into focus came Minerva, who stood off to the side of the great doors, looking back. Severus waited for the visitor to enter, which he soon did. He was of a height with Severus, though at least a decade younger, with taunt, tan skin. His blue eyes were dark in color, but sharp, sweeping over the Great Hall quickly and gaining knowledge about the space about him. His dark brown hair was nearly past his shoulders, slightly wavy, and recently trimmed.

The first glance at Jamie Turner would have made the pit of most men's stomachs drop out. Severus' did no such thing, and he held his gaze upon the man, who took no notice of anyone else in the room aside from Minerva and Rebecca, who entered behind him, smiling.

Minerva had told Severus the night before of Turner's visit to Hogwarts. He wished to say his goodbyes to Rebecca for now before he was not to see her again for an indeterminate amount of time. He would stay at Hogwarts until Wednesday, which is when he had to return to America and take over Rebecca's old position.

"And where will Turner be staying?" Severus had asked, looking away from Minerva. His tone was even, sounding bored with the conversation.

"Rebecca mentioned that her old apprentice rooms weren't going anywhere and were vacant," Minerva responded. "I saw no reason that he should stay anywhere else."

"You are going to allow a stranger to reside in the castle?"

"He's certainly not a stranger, Severus," Minerva replied. "And he has security clearance in America that rivals our own. I believe the school will not be in danger, and he will be away before the students are to arrive."

That had settled the matter. Even as Deputy Headmaster, Severus had had no say. And his mind reeled at Rebecca inviting the man here—or had he invited himself?—so soon after her banishing of him from her new quarters. Was this some ploy to get back at him? It was petty and seemed beneath her, but Severus had a tendency to forget her age. It was possible. Silently, he watched them approach the staff table.

"Good morning, Severus," Minerva said with a smile as she made her way to her usual seat in the center of the table.

"The famous Severus Snape," Turner said, grinning as he followed Minerva. He paused as he came to Severus' side, then held out his hand. "Jamie Turner."

Severus glanced at the proffered hand before looking back up to Turner's face. "I am more than aware of who you are, Mr. Turner."

Rebecca stood just behind Jamie, and he turned to her. She shook her head, and Jamie dropped his hand before moving down the table.

"Good morning, Severus," Rebecca said as she walked past him to sit beside Jamie and Minerva.

Her voice did not hold disdain, and neither was it unhappy. It was not neutral. _Content_, Severus thought. _She is content._

"Good morning, Rebecca," he replied quietly. Severus picked up his fork and began to eat.

He remained silent throughout breakfast and was the first to leave. His classroom was still not up to his standards, or so he told himself. The mindless tasks would keep him from thinking of what she might be doing, what her plans were (if she even had any), and wondering if she was going to put off readying her own classroom. With practiced ease, he forced his mind blank as he began the walk up to his Defense classroom, the place he should have been long ago.

* * *

The Burrow was teeming with activity that evening. Jamie had wanted to meet Rebecca's adopted magical family, so everyone made their way to the Weasley's home for dinner that evening. The large table outside had been made up, and that was currently where everyone sat or milled about, waiting for dinner to begin. So far, Rebecca had not been overly concerned for Jamie; he could make friends with anyone, and all of her friends were very receptive of him.

She sat beside Jamie, speaking with Ginny about the redecorating they were doing in a few of the rooms of Grimmauld Place. Suddenly, his arm was thrown about her shoulder and she was drawn closer to him. Rebecca rolled her eyes before smirking. Ginny giggled.

"At least I know Becca will be going back to good people," Jamie said.

"They _were_ the ones who had me first," Rebecca said, pushing against him so she could sit upright on her own.

"And now I understand why you're so eager to get back to them," he replied. Jamie stood, raising his wine glass in the air. "To friends old and new. To Rebecca for finally getting the job she both wants and deserves."

"Cheers!" everyone called in return.

Rebecca took a sip from her own wine glass. Jamie plopped back into his seat beside her. He waited patiently while she finished her conversation with Ginny, who finally stood to go see about her mother's progress in the kitchen.

"The Ministry won't be the same without you," he said.

"I was only there a year."

"But you did so much."

"I'm sure you would have done just as well if not been better at the job."

She took another sip of her wine. Jamie smiled.

"Still humble as ever, Felan. But you're much more… relaxed."

Rebecca's mind raced with any number of things she could have said. About Greyback. About her experiences with Severus over the summer. About her newly acquired sense of freedom at not thinking about him constantly, wondering how her actions might affect him. Her heart still yearned for him, but her mind had won out in that particular battle. She would not be with someone who could not see her current state, and instead saw what she had been.

"I'm happy," she said finally, smiling softly.

"Hopefully it's my presence that's doing that," he replied with a wink.

Rebecca chuckled. "As always, Turner, you do help."

The want to pull away from their close proximity was still there, but it was not so much of a conscious decision to remain where she was. Touching people was not a chore, she was slowly realizing. Her hugs upon entering the Burrow felt more personal and less of a necessity. The fear was still there. Perhaps it always would be. But she could conquer it. Tonight was just the beginning.

"You're looking mighty pensive for someone who's supposed to be integrating me with her family," Jamie said, shoving her shoulder with his lightly.

"And you're talking to me an awful lot for someone who wants to socialize with others," Rebecca said, pushing back.

Jamie sniffed, tilting his chin upward and lifting his glass to his lips. He took a slow sip before lowering his glass, his gaze meeting hers.

"I can't believe you're being so hurtful."

They held each other's look for a long moment before they both began laughing. Rebecca left her now empty wine glass on the table and stood, using Jamie's shoulder to help her.

"Go mingle. It's what you're good at," she said. "I'm going to see if Molly and Ginny need help."

She left her wine at her place at the table before turning and heading toward the back entrance of the Burrow. On her way there, she was intercepted by Remus.

"Been avoiding me?" he asked.

"Of course not," Rebecca said. "You look concerned. What's wrong?"

Remus looked over her shoulder before his hand came to rest on her upper arm. He tugged her off to the side, standing in the shadows the Burrow cast away from everyone else.

"Remus, what?" Rebecca asked.

He gave her a look before sighing. "We're enjoying your company. And certainly everyone seems to be taking to Jamie famously, just as you said they would."

"Are you not?" she said, brows furrowing.

He looked past her, toward the crowd of people out in the garden.

"Remus."

"He is… very casual."

"Casual?"

"Flirty, then. A more appropriate choice of diction?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "That's just how he acts."

"Just around you, not the others," Remus muttered.

"The other females in the area with husbands who are also in attendance. Jamie's not stupid enough to flirt with married women."

"So he _is _flirting with you."

"No." Rebecca sighed quickly. "Remus, Jamie and I aren't interested in each other. We've already had that conversation a few times."

"It warranted a _few_ discussions?" he asked, stepping closer.

"Not that it concerns you, but we did," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fine. I realize it is none of my business, but as one of your friends I thought that I might make mention of how it appears from an outsider's perspective."

"I appreciate it and it's noted."

"You're sure you're not accidentally stringing him along?"

She gave him a look before shaking her head. "Please. He's like a brother."

"Harry and Ron never talked to you like that."

Rebecca paused a moment. "If you must know, we did kiss once. But neither of us felt anything, so we knew after that there wouldn't be anything between us."

Remus seemed shocked by this news and simply stared for a moment. "Those with sibling affections don't kiss."

"The logic at the time called for it. I didn't enjoy it and it hasn't and won't be repeated. It was like… I don't know… how it would feel to kiss you."

A small, red flush came over Remus' cheeks. Rebecca blinked before reaching out and touching his shoulder.

"Remus, I'm sorry— "

Her words were cut off as he stooped, bringing his face just in front of hers. At the same moment, his hand reached to cup her cheek, pulling her closer. His lips were soft against hers, pressing gently and not asking for anything in return. Out of pure instinct, she pushed her lips into his, though her whole body felt tense. Her hand came up to rest upon his, the one that covered her cheek.

Remus pulled away slightly, looking up and down her face quickly. Rebecca could only stare back in response, her brain unable to process what had just occurred.

Suddenly, Remus' eyes grew wide, as if he just realized what he'd done. His hand slid from her cheek and he took a firm step back.

"Becca, forgive me, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's fine."

"It's not. I don't know why I did that. Becca, please don't hate me."

She was looking at the ground, but met his gaze upon these words. His hazel eyes pled silently with her. Slowly, she began to smile. Then, laughter overtook her. She put her hand over her mouth to try and stifle the sound, but it didn't work. Remus stared at her as if she'd gone mad. But soon, he was also smiling, then chuckling with her. Eventually, he reached out to her.

"Come here."

He enveloped her in a bear hug, Rebecca clutching him almost as tightly. They let each other go about the same time. Rebecca shook her head again, catching her breath from her laughter.

"Seriously, what was that about?"

"I hope you're not offended by this, but I was overtaken by a memory," Remus said, looking away from her and down to the ground. "Dora said something similar to goad me into kissing her for the first time."

Rebecca's expression softened. By the time Remus looked back up at her, Rebecca was smiling sadly.

"I'm not offended, I promise."

Remus nodded, taking in a breath. "I was just… overwhelmed. You've always been more a friend than anything else. Even as a student, you were always the different one."

"I understand, Remus. No hard feelings, I promise." Rebecca smiled softly.

"All right. Good." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Let's get back to the others. I believe many more toasts are in order before the night is through."

Remus let her pass in front of him to lead the way back to the others. They re-joined the group just in time for Molly and Ginny to begin levitating the dishes out onto the large dining table. Jamie threw his arm around Rebecca's shoulder once more, his grin firmly in place as he pulled her toward him.

"Well done, Becca."

Her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. "For what?"

"Having such a lovely family," Jamie said, raising his glass once more.

The Weasleys around him—George, Charlie, and Ron—took up the cheers of that particular toast. Soon, the whole table was in a happy uproar, and Rebecca could only laugh, raising her glass along with the others.

Later, Rebecca had to Apparate both she and a very inebriated Jamie Turner back to Hogwarts. He leaned heavily upon her as they made their way up to the castle.

"'re you really happy here, Becca?" he asked, voice choppy and somewhat slurred.

"I am," she replied, stopping momentarily to shift his arm back over both her shoulders. She continued walking forward.

"I hope so."

Rebecca glanced to him. "You're suddenly very concerned about me."

"You know what, Felan. I'm offended. You think I don't care."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you care. I just didn't think you'd be talking like this when you're barely able to stand on your own."

"I just wanna make sure you're gonna be all right."

"I'll be fine, Turner. I was doing well way before I came to America."

"'s that why you came in the first place?"

"We're not getting into that discussion now," Rebecca said. "Now be quiet while I get us back to the dungeons."

Jamie obeyed surprisingly well, looking about as thoughtful as a drunk person could as Rebecca navigated them to the dungeons. She opened the door to her former apprentice quarters and walked him back toward the bedroom. Rebecca stopped in front of the bed and let him go, watching as Jamie leaned forward and flopped face-first onto the bed. She put a hand over her face as he let out a content sigh.

"Well, I guess my work here is done," she said, turning to leave.

"Some friend you are, leaving me face-first like this," came Jamie's muffled voice from the bed.

"You're fine. I have to get some sort of sleep tonight."

Jamie managed to flip onto his back, staring at her blearily. "Why's that?"

"Because I'm not on vacation like you. I have to set up my classroom tomorrow morning. You're welcome to help, but Minerva said you could wander the castle at your leisure if that didn't appeal to you."

"Right. You'll tell me all this tomorrow, right?"

Rebecca smiled. "Naturally."

Jamie raised his hand and waved her over, letting the appendage drop back onto the bed. Rebecca chuckled and approached him, standing beside the bed.

"I'm glad you're happy, Becca."

His tone was suddenly so serious that Rebecca stared at him, trying to assess his line of thinking.

"Don't look at me in that tone of voice," he said, pointing a finger at her. "I mean it. You deserve to be happy."

"Just like you do, Turner," Rebecca said, leaning over and grabbing onto his legs. She pushed him until he lay flat on the bed.

"Thanks," he said, groaning as he settled onto the covers.

"Any time. Now go to sleep."

"Hey," he said, swiping at her with his hand, completely missing.

Rebecca turned to face him again, eyebrow raised.

"I love you, Felan. Don't forget that." He rolled over onto his stomach once more, hugging the pillow and closing his eyes.

Rebecca shook her head and smiled, approaching the bed once more. "Now I know you're drunk."

She put a hand on his head and ruffled his hair. He grunted at the action, but didn't move otherwise.

"And I love you too, Turner. Now sleep."

He mumbled something into the pillow. Rebecca turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. The trip through the small sitting room and connecting lavatory was short, her mind too sluggish from the day's activities to recall any memories she might associate with the areas.

For now she was happy. Content that she could have such a lovely day on her own with her friends and family. As she reached her new quarters, Rebecca shut the door behind her and frowned. Her family.

She shook her head. No reason to think of them right now. She had stayed away as she'd been ordered, and none of them had made any attempt to contact her. Things were finally looking up for her, and Rebecca didn't need something like that pulling her back into the awful place she'd dug herself out of.

After changing, she settled down into her bed, setting an alarm with a flick of her wand before setting it on the nightstand. Setting her mind to something had been much simpler than she ever thought it could have been, especially where Severus Snape was concerned. But as she'd said to him, as much a revelation to him as it was to herself, she'd been in love with him for her entire adult life. She needed room to herself, space to think, and time to simply breathe on her own.

Even the twenty-four hours' rest she'd had gave her the clarity to think upon him. Still, she wanted to give everything to have him with her. Even now it was difficult not to walk her way up to his quarters and simply speak to him. But her feelings would not rule her so, not any longer. Rebecca had to stay firm in her stance, and she was more determined than ever to do so.

Feeling better after thinking upon that subject, she allowed herself to examine the very random kiss Remus had given her. Sadness overtook her as she recalled his explanation. He'd been reminded of Tonks, perhaps the only woman he ever could truly allow himself to love. It was such a simple reasoning, and his embarrassment was so clear directly afterward that Rebecca couldn't question if he had any ulterior motives. No one had seen anything. She wouldn't bring it up again unless he wished to speak of it. Hopefully he wouldn't feel awkward about it for very long.

Rebecca drifted to sleep after about an hour's worth of thinking. She didn't dream.

* * *

Jamie wandered through the castle mid-morning the next day, thankful for the hangover cure Rebecca had had waiting for him when he awoke. She was a saint, and he'd told her so. She had smirked and made certain he drank the whole thing, which he did readily, even though the taste was vile. During breakfast, Jamie had formulated his plan, clearly remembering the details of the night before Rebecca herself didn't know that he knew.

He'd eyed Snape between conversation with Rebecca and the other staff members who were joining them. If nothing else, this would get back at him for being such an ass to Becca, something she didn't deserve. Jamie had seen the whole exchange between she and Remus the night before, even the awkward apology afterward. The other wizard clearly didn't have interest in Becca, but Snape didn't need to know that.

Meddling: yes. Helpful: possibly. Enraging: definitely. But he had to get a read on the man in all black. He didn't emote, even as Rebecca passed by. And if there was one thing Jamie Turner was good at, it was getting a rise out of people.

Jamie helped Becca in her classroom for a bit, doing menial tasks that she trusted him with. Eventually, she was going to be buried in her storeroom, so she shooed him out. It was time to take this opportunity to find the Defense classroom, where Snape was sure to be.

Meandering about a castle as old as Hogwarts was quite an experience. He was in no rush—Becca told him to come back to the Great Hall for lunch, which was still two hours away. And he didn't wish to look like he was pin-pointing Snape. So when he came across the Charms classroom, he popped inside and had a talk with the small professor—Flitwick—for a few minutes before going on his way once more.

Finally, he reached the fourth floor. An open classroom door with great sounds of movement suddenly bursting from it caught his attention. It had to be Defense. Jamie sauntered toward it, poking his head in. He spotted the man near the front of the classroom, orchestrating the movement of all the desks with his wand. He noticed Jamie immediately, putting down his wand. The desks stopped moving.

"Mr. Turner. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

His tone was dry, sullen. The black eyes watched his every move as Jamie entered the classroom. Now he understood where Becca got her creepy look from—the one where she seemed to be penetrating his skin with her eyes. Jamie forced himself to smile.

"The Headmistress told me I was welcome to explore the castle while I was here," he said. "Rebecca told me to get out of the Potions lab before I destroyed something, so here I am."

Snape made a movement with his lips that was almost a smirk, but it was gone so quickly that Jamie could have been mistaken.

"And what made it seem to you, Mr. Turner, a novel idea to enter my classroom?"

"I've stopped in a lot of the classrooms," Jamie said, approaching the front and looking about.

There were many different skeletons suspended from the ceiling. Paintings of different creatures, spells, and curses also adorned the walls. Large, faded tapestries covered the tall windows, blocking most of the light from entering the room.

"I wanted to come up here and see the Defense classroom," he said, stopping a few feet from Snape and looking at him directly. "It was always my favorite class when I was in school."

"Undoubtedly why you became an Auror," Snape said, waving his wand once more. The desks began to move again, repositioning themselves quickly.

"And to help people. But dueling was always a forte of mine."

Snape didn't reply, eyes scanning the classroom and the way the desks were spread. He waved his wand again, obviously not satisfied with their placement.

Jamie would bide his time, so began to look at the tapestries more closely. The first one had centaurs on it, in the midst of some sort of ritual. The sound of the desks scraping lightly against the stone floor finally stopped. Jamie turned to find Snape now focused on the bookshelves against the other side of the room. He was doing his best to ignore him in the hopes, Jamie supposed, that he would go away.

"You were missed at the gathering last night," Jamie said, hands clasped behind his back as he looked at the older wizard.

The man turned to face him. His nose was slightly hooked and rather large. His black hair hung slightly in his face.

"I doubt that, Mr. Turner."

"You are spoken highly of in the Weasley and Malfoy households," Jamie said.

"I am not the social one, as Professor Felan has accustomed herself to being. I am certain that she and the others were more than capable of getting along without my presence to bring the occasion down."

Jamie smiled. "It's Professor Felan now, is it?"

"She is my colleague. I give her the deference that she deserves."

Jamie grinned.

"I must ask that you leave, Mr. Turner. I am going to be rather busy the remainder of the morning setting my classroom to rights."

Jamie nodded. "Sorry to intrude. I'll get out of your way."

He made certain to walk past the other wizard. As soon as he was certain Snape thought him gone, Jamie turned.

"You know, she's happy now. Happier than I've ever seen her."

"Mr. Turner," Snape said, turning on his heel to face the man, "I am not certain what you believe to be doing, but I am not one to discuss his personal life with strangers."

"Well, now that I have your attention again, I just thought I'd tell you that whatever you did to her, I'm glad it finally gave her the sense to get away," Jamie said.

Snape's eyes narrowed. The way that his brows met the tops of his eyes was unnerving, but Jamie pressed forward.

"You know Lupin, I assume—he seems nice enough. Becca seems to think he is, at least."

Jamie spotted a muscle in Snape's cheek twitch at the name. He had him.

"Hardly left each other's sides last night," Jamie said. "Disappeared for a few minutes. I saw them kiss, even."

Snape's jaw clenched tightly. Jamie opened his mouth to say something more, but he found himself unable to do so, or even breathe. He gasped, clutching at Snape's arm, which pressed into his throat strongly enough to shove him back against the wall of the castle. They hadn't even been that close to the wall. Snape moved faster than Jamie had had time to process it. The man in question now bared his teeth in Jamie's face, pressing more firmly with his arm.

Jamie beat against Snape's arm. The darker man's face was now completely unreadable. Jamie made another choking sound as Snape pressed his arm more firmly into his throat.

And just as quickly as the arm had begun pressing itself against his throat, it was gone. Jamie slid down the wall, his lungs filling with the cool air of the castle, his gasps echoing in the silent room. Snape looked down upon him, now sneering. Jamie looked up at him, hand rubbing against his throat. But no bruise would show up, not with the way Snape had used his forearm.

"Slandering her name to all who might listen is hardly befitting of one who would call himself her friend," Snape said, voice nearly a hiss.

Jamie forced himself to stand up, having caught his breath sufficiently to do so.

"Get out of my classroom, Mr. Turner."

Without looking up to meet the blistering gaze he was certain would be there, Jamie managed to scramble out into the corridor to have the door slam shut behind him. He leaned against the wall across the corridor, inside an alcove.

Well, that certainly hadn't been the reaction he'd been expecting.

* * *

Rebecca entered the Defense classroom the next evening, wearing the professorial robes that she had picked up from Madam Malkin's earlier in the day. She needed to grow accustomed to them, and she hoped that they would offer her a more authoritative appearance. After much badgering, she'd finally gotten out of Jamie what was wrong with him. Now she was going to confront the problem.

She knocked upon the open door, drawing Severus' attention to her.

"You may enter."

Rebecca took a few steps inside the room, looking about at the changes that he had made.

"I know why you are here," he said, back turned to her as he flicked his wand at the chalkboard. It began cleansing itself.

Rebecca waited, and he finally turned to face her.

"Your _friend_, I assume, spoke to you about our conversation."

"Choking him isn't really a conversation," Rebecca said. "Or if it is, I imagine it's rather one-sided."

"That occurred _after_our conversation."

"He let me see the memory. I know what happened."

"Then I find myself puzzled at your appearance in my classroom."

"I came here because Remus said that you came by to speak with him at Andromeda's today."

Severus' face did not change, even while she waited for him to emote something—anything.

"I did not threaten Lupin, so my confusion at this particular conversation still remains."

"He said the talk you had was uncomfortable."

Severus rolled his eyes. "For a werewolf, Lupin has very little spine."

"I wanted to tell you that while I appreciate you standing up for my honour, I must ask you to let comments like that go. I can and will deal with them myself."

"If that is what your _friends_ say of you, imagine what those who do not know you will say."

"Frankly, I don't care what anyone says of me. If they're my friends, I'll deal with them and that is the end of it. I don't need you protecting me, Severus."

His look remained neutral.

"Is there anything else I need to be admonished for, Professor Felan?"

Rebecca sighed. "It wasn't Jamie's place to say anything about private situations—"

"Lupin attempted to sputter some excuse or another about his actions before I interrupted him—"

"And _I _don't appreciate being interrupted, Severus," Rebecca said, planting herself firmly in front of him. "If you respect me as much as you indicated to Jamie, you'll kindly wait until I'm done speaking before you try and predict where our conversation is going."

His lips thinned. Rebecca suspected that was the best she was going to get.

"Remus was upset last night and not himself. We are not interested in one another whatsoever. I am going to focus on my work here, with the students. He still loves Tonks. I think you of all people should understand how strongly love affects people, even when the one you love isn't around anymore."

She saw the torn emotions expressed in his lips, brows, and his eyes: sadness, pain, longing, anger.

"I just want you to know of my intentions. I only want to be the best Potions Mistress and House Head that I can be. I want to help these students—all the students. And I need you to treat me like a colleague, not one of them."

"I am very well aware that you are no longer a student."

His gaze upon her was suddenly very intense, and Rebecca realised that she was extremely close to him. She took a step back.

"That is all I ask."

"Then if that is all, I still must prepare my classroom. You are dismissed, professor."

Rebecca turned and made her way from the familiar Defense classroom, the slight heel on her shoes clacking against the stone loudly. Severus paused only a moment to glance over his shoulder at her.

_Happier than I've ever seen her_. Turner's voice haunted him. The way she commanded herself, coming into her new position at the school and overcoming the events that had taken place just days ago. Becoming a new individual, one who did not take being pushed around lightly. In fact, he sensed she was going to cause him issues this term.

But happier than she'd ever been… He'd seen her happy, been the cause of that genuine smile more than once this past summer. He frowned, pushing the thought from his mind as he returned to settling the way his books rested on the shelves.

* * *

Rose Felan opened her front door to find a stranger waiting with his arms folded before him. He was tall, lanky, and very pale, with long, black hair creating a curtain round his face. He looked up as the door opened. His dress was unusual for the summer: a black turtleneck and slacks, polished shoes.

"May I help you?" she asked, keeping the door mostly closed, standing in the opening to block the line of sight into her home.

"Mrs. Felan, you do not know me, but I know your daughter," he said evenly, his baritone voice remaining even throughout his short sentence.

"Becca," Rose whispered.

"I was her Potions professor— "

"Professor Snape," she said.

Severus paused before nodding. It was exactly how their first conversation had developed.

"Yes," he said. "I have information on your daughter, and I am aware this might be one of the few times we may be able to speak freely."

"Please, come in," she said quickly, stepping out of his way.

Severus entered the house and was on alert. Rebecca's father worked away from home while her mother worked out of the home, on their computer. It had taken some Pensieve searching to recall that bit of information from one of their Occlumency sessions. But she would be alone, and that was the most important part.

"The kitchen will be best," Rose said, locking the door behind him and walking directly back.

Professor Snape followed her, and Rose was in a frenzy. She began opening cabinets.

"Tea?" she asked.

"While I appreciate it, Mrs. Felan, we do not have much time," Severus said.

"My apologies," she said, turning to him. "Please sit." She motioned at the four-person table.

She watched him take the seat with his back to the wall. Just like Becca had started doing the summer after her fifth year. This was the man who helped to train her, she remembered. Rose took the seat across from him.

"I know that your husband is not the kindest man to those who are like me," Severus said, "so I will be gone before he is home."

"Thank you, but _please_, how is Becca?"

Her expression was pained.

"She is well," he said.

Severus thought back to the memories of Rebecca's he had needed to revisit to find the time Mrs. Felan would be alone. The woman in Rebecca's memories of her younger years seemed very aloof, nearing the point of uncaring for her daughter. His expression must have shifted by some miniscule amount, because she sighed.

"I don't know what you know of me," she said quietly, "but I will tell you that when Becca was younger… I could have done so much more for her."

"I know a few things," Severus said slowly, waiting to see what information he could obtain from this woman.

Rose sat up straighter in her chair, hands folded together on the table in front of her.

"Roger did not want a second child," she said. "Rebecca was an accident, but I didn't completely agree with aborting the fetus. After all, it wasn't its fault it was unwanted, I decided." She lifted her shoulders in a half-shrug before settling back down. "Nicholas, her older brother, was a handful. He was four when Becca was born. And I had… issues connecting with her."

Severus watched the woman in front of him divulge these huge secrets to him with little other cause other than he had information about her daughter. They had veered completely off from their last conversation. But at that time, Roger Felan had not banished his daughter from his life.

"Is she aware of this?" he asked.

Rose shook her head. "Like so many things I didn't tell her, that was just one other thing that I believed she didn't need to know. It also didn't help that Rebecca began showing that she was different at an early age. Five, if I remember correctly. It was little things. A vase being moved or the telly being on or off when it hadn't been before. We didn't think anything of it until Roger saw her moving objects without touching them."

Her smile was almost fond.

"I knew she was like my mother," Rose said. "She said that she came from a strong magical bloodline. My father's niece was also magical. It was only natural that Rebecca be so, too."

"I am aware of your heritage," Severus replied. "Your mother's lineage saved your daughter during the war."

"Please, Professor Snape, tell me where she is now."

He considered this woman before him, someone who did not look at all like Lily or her own daughter. But he could see the distinct Black features, the sharp chin and cheekbones, the bright blue eyes. Then he saw it in her nose. The shape of her face. The way she sat.

"When your husband cast her off, a number of things had happened in a quick succession by that point," Severus said. "She was, unfortunately, not in an extremely stable mental state, and she did something rash. She went to America and became their Head Auror." He paused, trying to think of the muggle equivalent. "Something like your police commissioner, I suppose."

Rose leaned forward, attentive for any information. "What happened while she was there?"

"She attempted to get help for her issues pertaining to the war, but she was unsuccessful, and did not tell anyone how she was feeling. She isolated herself, because she believed it to be for the best that way."

Rose covered her mouth with her hand. "Did she…?"

"Nothing quite so drastic, though her job did require that she go undercover on a few occasions. She made more rash decisions. The final one saw her hurt badly, but she has since healed. She returned to England the beginning of the summer to see her friends wed."

"Harry?" Mrs. Felan said, desperation in her voice. "Her friend Harry survived, then? She was always so concerned for him. And Ron, Hermione."

"They were the ones who were married, yes," Severus said. "Her friends convinced her to stay, particularly after her desired teaching position opened at Hogwarts."

"Potions," Mrs. Felan said. "But I thought that was your subject."

"It was, but I have subsequently taken on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts and Deputy Headmaster. Our Potions Master went into a sudden retirement and we were in need. My Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, insisted that Rebecca train for her Potions Mastery, half of which she had already obtained while working in America."

"She passed," Mrs. Felan said, smiling.

"Under my tutelage, she did," Severus said.

"So Rebecca is back at Hogwarts, teaching."

"She is also Head of Slytherin House."

Mrs. Felan looked very pleased, though she was trying to hide her smile and the way it lit up her eyes.

"I appreciate you coming to tell me this, Professor Snape, I really do. But… why are you here, truly?"

Severus glanced at the table for just a moment.

"Your father's niece, the girl who was magical. Lily Evans. She was my friend while I went to Hogwarts."

"Oh, my. I was never overly close to Lily, but I always thought it fitting that Rebecca—"

Severus could almost see the synapses working in the woman's brain. It was at that moment that he understood where Rebecca received the majority of her intelligence from.

"Rebecca looks just like Lily," Mrs. Felan whispered.

"In many ways, she does indeed. It was almost as if I was seeing a ghost when she first walked into the Great Hall those eight years ago." His brows furrowed slightly at the memory. "She has grown into her own person, Mrs. Felan. Perhaps, even, a better individual than Lily Evans was."

"I'm still confused as to why you're here, professor."

"I asked myself that countless times before I appeared on your stoop, Mrs. Felan," Severus said. "I am still not overly certain myself."

There was a silence between them.

"You know Rebecca better than I know her myself," Mrs. Felan said, her quiet voice barely breaking the silence of the kitchen. "You've certainly spent more time with her than I ever have."

"I wish to aid you in rectifying your situation," Severus said. "But I do not wish for you to tell her that it is I who came to see you when you do converse."

"Why?"

"Because she is extremely cross with me and would not appreciate what I am trying to do. She would consider it meddling."

"That is what you're doing, though."

"A textbook definition, Mrs. Felan."

Rose looked at the man in front of her, so composed and controlled in the way he sat, spoke, and even how he showed his emotions.

"Professor Snape, do you care for my daughter?" Her voice was non-judgmental, even though she felt perhaps she should feel some sort of incredulity. He was younger than she, but not by much. And he had been Rebecca's professor. But she could feel no such emotion, and not for lack of caring for her daughter and her well-being. She'd done quite enough of _not_ doing that in Rebecca's younger years.

No, this man before her seemed to suit Rebecca in a way that she could not entirely place. Perhaps because she felt she had no reason to feel protective of her daughter, who had grown up away from her and was now an adult with her own income and residence. Whatever the reason, she could not feel herself growing angry if he were to say that he did care for her.

She watched him struggle to find the appropriate answer. The resolve crossed his black eyes after a few moments' contemplation.

"After the end of the war, your daughter admitted that she cared for me and I spurned her rather pointedly and cruelly. Subsequently, she was denounced by her father and was barred from seeing her family. Still she battled with what she had done and witnessed during the war. After stewing on these many emotions, she left for America where her life took a turn for the worse."

Severus pursed his lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. "While it was not my complete personal doing that she left, I felt—still feel— as though it was my fault that many things occurred the way in which they did. I am attempting to make amends for the wrongs I have caused her."

"Wrongs?" Mrs. Felan said.

"Those are stories that your daughter will need to tell you. I am running out of time here."

"But you _do_ care for her."

Rose met his black eyes. They were so deep and held so many different emotions that Rose could not bear to look into them for too long. But she didn't have to. He began to speak.

"Whatever feelings I may or may not have, Mrs. Felan," he said, "I will tell you that your daughter made a choice. And that choice was, to her benefit, _not_ me."

Rose had all the answer that she needed in that response and decided to let the subject drop. He was clearly not going to answer her directly.

"Then how do you propose, professor, in connecting me with my daughter without her discovering the source?" she asked.

"You will be visited tomorrow by another of Rebecca's friends who has been looking for you," Severus said. "However, it seems that your daughter has made your house impossible to find, even by the standards of our Ministry of Magic officials."

"Why would she do that?"

"To protect you. This friend of hers, Harry Potter, will instruct you further on what to do."

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

He nodded. "I must take my leave. I have taken up enough of your time."

He stood, and Rose had to fight to keep up with him to the door. She barely made it to the door before him in time to open it. He swept out, leaving Rose to look after him. When he was passing before her front lawn, she saw him take out a long stick—his wand—and flick it toward her home while muttering something. Nothing appeared to happen for her, but he looked satisfied. He replaced his wand back inside his trousers and walked down the street, limping slightly. Soon he was out of her sight.

* * *

The next day, Harry Potter took another shot at the locator spell for Rebecca's parents' house. He had been attempting to find them since the end of the war with nothing to show for it. Both muggle and magical methods turned up empty. But today, it was different. Their house was a bright blue on the map. Immediately he went there and caught Rebecca's mother at home. Harry handed her the box he used to communicate with Rebecca, showing Mrs. Felan how to work it. Harry left, feeling triumphant.

* * *

That evening at dinner, Rebecca showed Minerva the letter she had received from her mother just a few minutes before.

"I didn't think the spells Alastor and I cast on their house would last so long," Rebecca said, looking confused as to how to feel. "But it must have worn off. Harry said he's been looking even though I didn't want him to because of my father. I didn't even think any of them would want to speak with me after everything."

"Of course she would. You are still her child," Minerva said.

"She wants me to meet with her this weekend. She wants to explain everything." Her tone was reserved.

"I told her she should go," Jamie said.

"I concur," Minerva answered. "A talk will not hurt anything. She is your mother, Rebecca."

Severus was pretending to read _The Daily Prophet_, but Rebecca could tell that he was actually listening to the conversation, perhaps because of his own curiosity.

"What do you think, Severus?" she asked.

He set down the paper slowly and pondered the question before speaking.

"If I should have the chance as an adult to speak with my mother on any number of issues from my childhood, I would do so."

He lifted the paper back up, creating a loud crackling sound and drowning out the small chatter that had started up at the staff table. She had every right to be reserved after everything that had happened between herself and her family. In the end, he knew that her mother had attempted to take better care of her daughter, to get to know her. If nothing else, some sort of relationship could be salvaged.

"I'll go," she said after many more minutes of deliberation.

* * *

The next day, Wednesday, Turner left for America. Rebecca was very quiet the rest of that day and even leading into Thursday. She cleaned and organized the Potions stores a final time, then did the same with her classroom. Then she did the same to her quarters on Friday. That evening was her meeting with her mother, and she had been thinking about it since agreeing to the talk. She was nervous.

The next morning in the Great Hall, she was smiling, if a bit faintly. She took her seat beside Minerva, remaining silent. The Headmistress looked to her.

"I take it, my dear, that your talk with your mother went well?"

"It did," Rebecca said. "She told me a lot of things that make sense in retrospect. It'll be a slow process, but I think that we'll be all right."

"And how do you feel about that?" Flitwick asked from the other side of Rebecca.

She looked down to her former Charms professor. "I'm happy. Very much so."

"Very good to hear, Rebecca," Flitwick said, beaming up at her.

From the other side of Minerva, Severus continued to feign reading the _Prophet_. Now perhaps Turner's words wouldn't haunt him so.

* * *

"She said, 'I know what it's like to be dead. / I know what it is to be sad.' / And she's making me feel like I've never belonged. / I said, 'Who put all those things in your head? / Things that make me feel that I'm mad. / And you're making me feel like I've never belonged.' / She said, 'You don't understand what I said.' / I said, 'No, no, no, you're wrong.' / When I was a boy, everything was right. / Everything was right. / I said, 'Even though you know what you know, / I know that I'm ready to leave. / 'Cause you're making me feel like I've never belonged.'" – "She Said She Said" by The Beatles

_Term's Beginning, September 1, 1999_

The Great Hall was abuzz that evening. Rebecca gained ten new Slytherin first years, all of whom were taken up by one of her Prefects and sat down at the long table she'd been at only two years ago. She looked at each new student carefully, repeating his or her name over in her head until it stuck with the face. Even while they ate, Rebecca watched how they interacted with the other students and how others responded to them. Five girls and five boys, all trying their best to look comfortable in the throng of older students and not realising how miserably they were failing at it.

Rebecca was determined that Slytherin House would win the House Cup this year, and for many years after this. Perhaps she could even break the previous record. This made her smirk as she looked down at her plate. Long ago, she had tuned out the other professors at the staff table. She sat to the right of Minerva, who had insisted upon giving her this position to garner respect from the students, some of whom she was not much older than. The other professors had believed this to be a good idea, though Rebecca knew Roger Davies was a bit perturbed that he was not given the same treatment despite it being his first year as a professor.

"You're a bit older and have worked in the field since graduation, Roger," Minerva had told him. "You may sit beside Severus, if you wish."

The slightly raised eyebrow and tiny smirk Severus gave Davies nearly made Rebecca giggle, but she bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself just in time. As it stood, Davies sat on the other side of Flitwick, who was seated beside Rebecca. Severus was just on the other side of the Headmistress, as was his rightful place as Deputy Headmaster.

Rebecca had finished with dinner long before her fellow professors, feeling too nervous to eat overly much. She would address her Slytherins tonight for the first time after dinner, lay out her plans for them and how they would win the House Cup together and create a new start for their misunderstood House.

"Rebecca, dear," Minerva said.

She startled Rebecca enough that she jumped slightly, turning her wide eyes toward the Headmistress.

"Merlin, Rebecca, however could you have been inside your head with such a noise going on about you?"

"Sorry, Minerva, I was thinking about my talk with the Slytherins tonight."

"Don't be afraid, my dear, I know they'll come around to trusting you in good time."

"I'm not afraid," Rebecca said sternly.

"Of course not. Now, there is the matter of your rounds to speak of," she said.

The rounds, naturally. They'd all been handed the schedule at this morning staff meeting, intended to deal with last-minute issues before the students arrived. Her time slots for this term were sporadic, which she only thought was just. The newest professors were bound to get the short end of the stick. She worked the rounds Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and alternating Saturdays. Mondays would be from nine until eleven; Wednesdays from eleven until one; Fridays from one until three, and the alternating Saturdays from five until breakfast at seven.

"Yes, Minerva, what about them?"

"You are to meet Severus in the Entrance Hall at the start of your rounds," Minerva said. "He will accompany you and make certain that you know what you are to be looking for and how to appropriately deal with all issues you may encounter."

"That sounds lovely," Rebecca said. "If you'll excuse me, Minerva, I have to make certain my Prefects know of my plans for tonight."

It took more time than she expected, but her Slytherins understood her intentions. Whether or not they believed a word she said was another thing altogether.

Rebecca sat upon her sofa, letting the furniture engulf her as she let out a heavy sigh. Astoria Greengrass, her seventh year Prefect (surprisingly not Head Girl, but Rebecca suspected another Head Girl or Boy would not be Slytherin for at least a couple of years more) was the only one who seemed completely on board with what Rebecca said. But Astoria knew the Head of House; Rebecca would have to earn the trust of the other students.

But how to go about desegregating them? The age groups stood apart from one another, the fifth, sixth, and seventh years on one side of the room, the third and fourth years in the center, and the first and second years huddling together. She couldn't imagine how bad things had been for the now second years this past term. Perhaps they were taking pity on the new students and would help them.

That would not do, however. Her House needed to be one unit, a group who worked together effortlessly. She put her hands over her face. How to go about doing such a thing wasn't going to happen overnight.

The clock chimed, forcing Rebecca to peek out from behind her hands. It was nine, and she should be in the Entrance Hall right now.

She sprang up from her sofa and sprinted out her door and down the corridor leading to the Entrance Hall. As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, she slowed her pace and made the panicked look leave her face. Severus Snape turned toward her just as she approached him.

"You are late."

"I was speaking with the Slytherins. My apologies— I won't be tardy again."

She gave a slight nod of her head and he glared at her.

"See that it doesn't, Professor Felan. It is unbecoming of someone of your station."

Rebecca didn't meet his gaze. "The Headmistress indicated that you were going to teach me the art of making rounds."

His black eyebrow slowly raised, but she didn't say any more and would not look up at him. Finally, he answered.

"Patrol is generally done in three-hour increments," he said, his tone snappish but instructional, as he would take on in the classroom. "You will begin at a predetermined point—generally where the last patrol has left off. Should you be the beginning or graveyard shift, simply begin in the dungeons and work your way toward the top of the castle."

He paused, and Rebecca gave a curt nod. Severus turned on his heel.

"You will keep up."

Rebecca followed the billowing robes closely, walking slightly off to his side so she would not run the risk of tripping over his cloak. He walked toward the Great Hall, opening the giant door. With a wave of his wand, the candles lit once more, illuminating the entire room.

"As you are aware," he said, entering the room with her following closely, "the students have a very strict curfew for the weeknights: nine p.m. for those in the fourth years and younger, ten for those who are in the older years. Prefects and the Head Girl and Boy are allowed to be out during the hours of their rounds and when they are performing business for professors. However, even these students will not be allowed out past midnight on weeknights. Any students with a professorial escort are, obviously, exempt from these rules."

He stopped and spun suddenly to face her. She had been peering under the tables on either side of them, so she stopped just short of running into him. Severus stared down at her, but she didn't appear flustered by the situation.

"Notes are no longer permissible for students out after curfews. A professor, Prefect, or Head Girl or Boy _must_ escort students back to their common rooms if it is after the curfew. Should you see _any_ student out after midnight, they had better be having a medical emergency. Is that clear enough?"

Rebecca's heartbeat was finally slowing down from nearly running into him. Honestly, if he was expecting her to be looking for students, he couldn't be turning around suddenly like that. But she kept her mouth shut until he called upon her to speak. He was, after all, her Deputy Headmaster.

"That is very clear," she said, taking a step back from him.

Immediately, his scent was no longer surrounding her. This was for the best, as it would only remind her of the days she was confident wouldn't return. She took in a steadying breath before clasping her hands in front of her and looking back up to him.

"Are there any other rule changes I need to be aware of?"

He noted all of the subtle physical changes she made to her person. Though she'd taken a step away from him, she still took in a deep breath. He took a larger step toward her, lowering his head slightly so they were at eye level with one another.

"No," he said, his voice nearly a growl. "Had you not left when you did, you would not need to ask me such a question. However, should a change occur in the rules, you will be notified."

He turned from her just as suddenly as he'd turned to face her, no longer wanting to be assaulted by the returning scent of her shampoo. The memory of allowing her lovely hair to pass between his fingers returned to him, and with the temptation no longer dangling directly in front of his face, Severus felt as though he could breathe easier.

Though he attempted to act as he would with any of his other colleagues with her, Severus found himself wanting to ask after the renewed relationship with her mother; he wanted to ask after her classroom, after the chat she'd had with the Slytherin students. He wanted to try and explain himself once more to her, but he wasn't certain she would hear it. Moreover, that was simply not who he was. She had wanted space from him, and that was what he was allotting for.

"Well, staying in Britain wasn't really the best option for me at the time," Rebecca said, trotting to keep up with him.

Possibly not the best thing to say to him, someone who could become angry quickly, but Rebecca had felt like she was becoming more herself with each passing day since Greyback's death. Speaking out of turn was something her younger self would have done without worry of the consequences.

She knew that he did not truly hate her, even after everything, just as she truly couldn't hate him no matter how hard she tried. Rebecca was able to place the look in his eyes just moments ago, when he'd been trying to intimidate her (and being only mildly successful). It was longing. He did still care.

Severus sighed. "You must always be a constant reminder of how terrible my mentoring abilities were," he said as they continued their way through the Great Hall, which was quiet and empty. "I'm certain somewhere along the years I attempted to teach you altruism, but apparently like so many other lessons, it seems I failed you."

They had rounded about the entirety of the hall by this point, and so made their way back through the doors, Severus letting the candles out with a flick of his wand.

"You didn't fail me," Rebecca said matter-of-factly, the tone forcing him to turn and face her. "If you had, we'd both be dead. As it stands, we're both here, so stop being so sour."

Severus stared at her for a moment. She had become quite different around him, and very quickly. But it wasn't annoyance. It was more in keeping with her tone she held with him over the summer, although it held much less softness under its surface.

"The grounds are not a part of patrol—they are covered by Hagrid and Professor Hooch," he said, choosing to ignore her previous comment. "However, it is advisable to glance outside and ensure that there is nothing in your line of vision that appears amiss. A student who had just crept out, a massive fire somewhere in your line of sight— issues of those sorts."

He nodded toward a corridor, and they began down it. She kept up admirably with his long strides.

"How you choose to perform your rounds throughout the castle is your prerogative; however, note that you have three hours to cover the entire castle, which includes any mishaps along the way. Questions?"

"Yes, actually," Rebecca said, taking a few quick steps so she was parallel with him. "Do a lot of random fires occur inside the line of vision on the grounds?" She couldn't help but give a slight smirk.

Severus found himself turning on his heel to quickly face her, his temper barely concealed.

"If I could, I would take five points from Slytherin for your cheek, Professor Felan," he snapped. "As it stands, I can merely hope that you refrain from undermining both your authority and mine in front of the students. Now, if you are finished with your quips, I will review the rules of disciplining," Severus said.

She was going to be the death of him. In that moment he was torn between dragging her outdoors and forcing her to look for the nonexistent fires as punishment and invading her space once more just so she could see how fiery she was making him.

"Of course, Deputy Headmaster," she said, following him closely. They were going up a flight of stairs now, which, if Rebecca remembered correctly, would lead them toward the library, probably a popular hiding spot.

It astonished her that he reacted so explosively toward her. His emotions were definitely not as smooth as they normally would be. Something about the way he snapped at her and the way he looked was different.

"I assume Filch is still, for the most part, coming up with new ways to scar the students for life?" she asked.

"It seems your memory does not fail you, professor. He is responsible for basic detentions, just as he was when you went through your schooling here."

Severus paused once he reached the landing of the staircase. "Pince shuts the doors at nine p.m. sharp every night except weekends. You should always secure the library in any case, especially after hours. Those found within who are not allowed to be here will be dealt with in a manner of accordance where the punishment fits the crime." He paused. "A simple out of bed for no good reason is worth of a deduction in house points and a detention with Filch, unless you prefer the student serve detention with you."

He turned to face her once more. "If they are out of bed—in the library and otherwise—and found to be… _fornicating_… there is a strict protocol to be adhere to."

"And the penalty would be?" she asked calmly.

He wouldn't get a rise out of her, even if the way he lingered over that particular word made a tiny shiver want to creep up her spine. He had to know how his voice affected people. Or perhaps he didn't. Or maybe in only some small way did he understand it. She cleared her mind quickly, lest he call her out on her obvious thoughts.

"The student are separated immediately—though generally, should you interrupt them, that process is taken care of," Severus said. "You take them immediately to my office. Believe me, when I have to be woken to deal with such situations, I am less than pleasant." He sneered. "In my absence, they will go directly to the Headmistress. Their Head of House is summoned as well as the Mediwitch and the four of us begin a rather graphic interrogation to ensure several things."

He took in a breath. A complicated subject, and one he was not entirely comfortable discussing with present company. But her eyes had not left his during the explanation. It was wrong of him to treat her as though she were so fragile when it was so obvious that she was not, but Severus found that he could not help from wanting to protect her somehow. And that was exactly what he shouldn't be doing.

He cleared his throat. "We will ask the necessary questions until all of the facts are discovered. The most important thing to notate is whether or not the act is consensual." Another quick pause. "Though this does not occur very often, I have found students fornicating out after hours only to discover that the female—and on occasion the male—has been coerced into the act, be it by potion, charm, or fear of the other person involved."

Severus leaned closer to her. "Is that clear, professor?"

"Trust me, if there is a student found coercing or forcing another person in such a manner, particularly in _my_ House, they will find that I am also less than pleasant, especially if I'm to be awoken to deal with it."

Her brows furrowed deeply and she could feel the red coming to her face from the anger she was already feeling at the thought. She stopped just an inch before his nose, the rage clearing from her head as his familiar scent took over her mind. She took a step back.

"My apologies," she muttered quickly. "The subject is a bit close to home, but I'll be able to handle it as any other professor would. They won't want their punishments to come from me, suffice to say." She looked away. "Anything else?"

"Apology unnecessary," she heard him say quietly. By the time she looked at him once more, his face was a mask—if it had ever not been. "Once we have ensured that it was consensual, we ascertain whether or not they were using protection. As Potions Mistress, it may be necessary for you to administer Veritaserum should the students be found uncooperative. Once the questioning is done, we discuss consequences, with any detentions taken separately, if both parties are found to be at fault. The punishments, for the most part, are left up to the Head of House to complete, if he or she does not want it to fall to Filch to complete the necessary detentions. After all is sorted, Madam Pomphrey examines both individuals in the hospital wing."

He watched her, and seeing her so uncomfortable made the overwhelming urge to protect and comfort her rise. It was such an unusual emotion for him, and yet it felt normal at the same time.

Rebecca saw him shifting ever so slightly on his feet and raised a hand up. "I'm fine, Severus," she said gently. "These are things that I must know, and I appreciate you being so thorough."

She flashed him a tiny smile, just to prove that she was all right.

"Now, what if it's something simple? The students of opposite sexes are found together and are just about to commit a lewd act or are in various other states of undress or simply snogging? I assume for the acts that require skin-to-skin contact, Poppy will still need to be involved. But as for the others, do their Heads of Houses need to be contacted or can they simply be escorted to their common rooms and given detentions and point reductions?"

At least she was being meticulous, Severus found himself thinking. Even if the subject was difficult, he knew she would not need to ask again. He wondered how this conversation would change had things not happened as they had after she killed Fenrir Greyback. But there was no time to think on that.

"Simply snogging and groping, providing no one has their hand inside the other's knickers, is a severe house point deduction, detentions, threats to call upon their Head of House—though seldom have I ever found myself having to follow through on that threat, especially where Gryffindors were concerned.

"On the rare occasion that the couple out of bed happens to be of the same sex—regardless of how far along they are—will need to speak with their Head of House. We have no intention of outing anyone, but the students—once they realize that carrying on in public is not tolerated whatsoever—must know that the faculty support them in their lifestyle choices. We also offer counseling options, should they wish to partake and discuss any aspect of it."

"I'm glad to hear Hogwarts has such rules," Rebecca said. "Something tells me that was a rule instituted by Albus." She smiled fondly.

"You are correct," Severus said. "There wasn't anything in place at the time, and a certain situation called for a need, or so I have been told." He paused as he stepped out into the corridor in front of the library. "Now, for the other possible issues you may encounter on rounds. For theft, you may bring them directly to me, along with any fighting that occurs both during and after-hours."

Rebecca took a few steps forward, listening and looking as she went. "Are there any other major concerns as far as students or round that I should know about?"

Just as she reached the juncture of the corridor, a great whooshing sound was upon her. Rebecca screamed as she felt something envelope her, dousing her with the chilliest cold she'd ever felt. She grasped for her wand inside of her robes on pure instinct, though fear coursed through her veins to the point it was all she could feel, all she could think about. When her wand was raised and pointed, her eyes scanning the area for the threat, Peeves' massive grin was just inches from her face.

"_Waddiwasi_!" Severus shouted, his own wand drawn when she'd reacted so suddenly. As he let off the spell, he moved toward her instinctively.

Several wads of gum from various crevices flew at the poltergeist, cramming up his nostrils. Peeves shouted as he shot down the corridor. Severus was beside Rebecca, his free hand touching her wand hand, forcing it down toward the ground. Then both hands rose to grip her shoulders. She was already clutching the front of his, hoping to steady herself. Her head was tipped forward.

"Are you all right?" His voice was a whisper, almost nonexistent. With her so close, he longed to draw her completely forward, to cover her up with his own robes. But he stood stock still.

It was nearly a minute, or so it felt, before she finally spoke.

"Fucking poltergeist."

It was enough to jar Severus out of the uneasiness he was feeling, being stuck between so many emotions. He looked up, a ghost of a smile upon his face, and found that she was already looking at him. Her smile did not reach her eyes.

Severus free hand, seeming to have a mind of its own, reached toward her cheek. Rebecca looked down, releasing the front of his robes from her tight grip at the same moment. She replaced her wand inside her robes, leaving Severus to quickly drop his hand and return his wand to its own place.

Time to push aside all of this silly nonsense. This was why he had tried his best to numb all feelings except for the anger, the pain, the self-loathing. It was easier, more familiar, to deal with those emotions. It was better to believe the worst in people rather than wanting for the good. She had told him at the end of the summer that this would not work, and perhaps she was right. Certainly, she was doing a very good job of showing that she did not want him.

He cleared his throat. "You will also be looking for minor maintenance during your rounds," he said, his voice taking on its normal tone after a moment. "Do not fix anything that you do not know how to—simply report it in the morning. Check for portraits out of frame. When a portrait goes missing, more often than not they're just visiting elsewhere in the castle. However, should one go missing entirely, it can be a calamity."

"I can do that," she said.

Rebecca knew he had not been trying to coddle her once Peeves had gone. His reaching for her had been entirely motivated by other emotions, and that was why she wasn't sure why she looked away from him. The muggle phrase (fool me once, shame on you and all that) came into her head. How could she trust him a third time to not shatter everything? There was still a pull between the two of them, like opposing magnets being inevitably attracted to one another.

Clearly, Severus had been thinking very hard as the silence between them had fallen, though only for a moment. Suddenly, he turned to look at her.

"Why do you insist on being so bloody difficult?"

His glare would have been enough to send a third year tearing down the corridors to get away from him. But Rebecca stood her ground, even if he would never stop being a terrifying sight when he was angry.

"I'm not trying to be difficult—I'm trying to learn," Rebecca said. "I don't know why you're getting so angry with me. All I've gotten from you tonight is a bad attitude. Are you still upset about Jamie? Remus? Because that kiss was nothing like—"

She clamped her mouth shut and stared at him. "That kiss was nothing."

He started for her, crossing the distance between them. Once in front of her, Severus noted how his hands shook slightly as he put them on each of her shoulders once more. He could feel her shaking, but with what? The fear was lying underneath the surface of her eyes, but something else. Embarrassment.

"Nothing… like… _what_?" he asked. His voice was a slight as his hands' shaking. "_Say it_. Nothing like what."

Rebecca would have been able to hold out against him, to remain firm in her resolve for him not to break her down yet again. But when his voice shook, even as light as it was, she felt for him.

"Merlin," she whispered, shutting her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "It was nothing like I'd felt with you. Even when I kissed you to save your life, and you were so cold, already half-dead. Even for our kiss to have me enter the Inner Circle. All the times this summer."

Her breath came quickly, but she couldn't stop speaking, even as she shook her head.

"I thought that maybe I could forget about everything that had happened and you'd see me as who I wanted to be, that maybe you'd see me as a legitimate individual. But I don't know what you think and I don't know what I want to think. Your actions still _hurt_, Severus. Everything still hurts. But—god damn it, you know how I feel. Don't make me say it again and make me humiliate myself even more."

He let her pull away from his grasp, but she did not move very far from him. They stared at one another for a long time. Severus stewed on his many emotions, on all of the things she had just said.

"I do not wish to humiliate you."

"What am I supposed to think? I let time pass before I spoke with you, and when I did speak to you, all you had for me was disgust and criticism, no matter the subject. You lied to me, Severus. For the entire summer, you lied. You acted like I was some sort of pawn, like I was during the war. Do you honestly think that I'll return a third time?"

"I told you I made no guarantees."

"Obviously I was too stupid to listen to you then, but I'll take your words to heart now."

She gave him a sneer that would rival his own before trying to turn and leave him standing in the corridor. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back toward him. Rebecca glared at him, but his expression was full of pain.

"Nothing has changed for me," he whispered.

It was the most heartfelt statement Rebecca had heard from him. Its meaning could not be misunderstood. But she would not be enticed so easily.

"Nothing did ever change for you, Severus," she said coolly. "Don't you see that's why I've pushed you away? _Nothing_ has changed for you. It's still like it was during the war. I'm still the girl you were sworn to protect, to keep safe, to make decisions for. That's not who I am anymore, and I don't know if you can understand that."

"You are the one who cannot see the difference," Severus said, his voice nearly a hiss. "You have learned nothing."

"I'm the one who's learned _everything_," Rebecca said, finally pulling her hand away from him. "And I've had a very good teacher, I might add."

His face settled back into its obligatory mask. "So be it. Unless you have need of me for school-related business, I do not wish to see you near my classroom, office, or quarters. If you have any other discipline-related questions, take it up with Minerva."

Severus stalked down the hallway, his black robes billowing behind him. As soon as he was out of sight, Rebecca let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She performed the remaining two hours of her rounds and met the next professor, who happened to be Flitwick, in the Entrance Hall. They bid each other good night, and Rebecca retreated back into her new quarters.

* * *

_Students Out of Bed, October 3, 1999_

After the next evening's staff meeting, Rebecca had attempted to speak to Severus about their argument, not wanting there to be a rift between them that could never be broached for the sake of professionalism.

He had simply waved her off and given her a scathing look before whispering harshly, "You are receiving exactly what you have requested, Professor Felan: that I treat you precisely as I treat everyone else."

That had been the remainder of their conversations for quite some time.

Inside the staff room, others spoke of how Slytherin was doing in the House Cup running already, and wasn't Severus happy that Rebecca was turning their House around?

"It is far too early in the term to determine the efficacy of her techniques," Severus would reply with, not looking up from whatever task he'd set himself to.

He did not even feel sorry when he was forced to take points from Slytherin students in his classes or otherwise. This fact did not go unnoticed by the other staff members, but none would dare to question him on the subject. They had determined that leaving Severus Snape to his own devices made their lives much easier in the end.

To all outside viewers, it was as if nothing had changed between the two of them since she'd left Britain last year. The final rebuke of her was enough to set Rebecca into her single-minded purpose of throwing herself into her new job.

_Another night, another set of rounds_, Rebecca thought as she made her way along the fourth floor. So far, her rounds had been uneventful, which she had always been thankful for. She hadn't felt prepared to deal with students getting in such trouble for being out of their common rooms, or any of the other possible rule-breaking that could take place. But she'd since been growing more confident in her teaching abilities and also in her dealing out punishments where they were due. Still, she always hoped for the best when it came to her rounds.

But tonight, she saw something off down the corridor. A door to a classroom was slightly open, allowing a dim light to spill out. Rebecca quickly approached, wand drawn and clasped closely to her side.

She pushed open the door and saw two students: one male, one female. The male—Jeffery Higgins—was a seventh year Slytherin, her mind quickly processed, and he was in a severe state of undress. The girl—Gabrielle Anderson—was a fifth year Ravenclaw. She currently sat atop a desk— her skirt pushed up much farther than was school regulations allowed as she clasped her buttonless shirt closed over herself— looking terrified. Higgins stepped back from Anderson a moment after Rebecca walked through the door.

Rebecca frowned deeply.

"Higgins, clothe yourself right now," she said, bending down and grabbing up the robes. She tossed them at the boy, who caught them clumsily.

Though the look upon the seventh year's face was a mixture of anger and surprise, he said nothing. He set his features as he did what Rebecca bid him to do. When she was certain he would not do something even more stupid than what she imagined was about to occur, she turned to the younger student.

Rebecca unclasped her own robe and put it about the girl's shoulders.

"Stand up, Miss Anderson," she said calmly. "Walk beside me. Higgins, you're in front. _Now_."

"Professor, I'm not fully dressed—"

"You have your shirt and trousers. They will do. We're making a visit to Professor Snape. Do not stop walking until I tell you otherwise."

The boy hadn't yet gotten a chance to button his shirt, but Rebecca did not much care. She wished to settle this as quickly as possible.

As they walked, Rebecca sent a Patronus to Filius. He would need to be there for his student. She would call Madam Pomfrey only if either student needed medical attention. It was nearing midnight, and she didn't want to disturb more people than was necessary.

It didn't take long to reach Severus' quarters on the floor below. She knocked normally, then waited, a student on either side of her.

Severus opened the door only a few moments later, wrapped in a black robe. Immediately, his brows furrowed at her appearance. He then glanced to the students beside her. His glare would have been enough to send her quaking at their age.

"I assume you have sent for Professor Flitwick," he said, taking a step into his office, which one had to walk through to get to his sleeping quarters. He shut the door behind him.

"Yes, and I'll summon Madam Pomfrey if necessary," Rebecca said.

Higgins rolled his eyes. "Trust me, it won't be."

Rebecca put a hand on the boy's shoulder and pushed him down into a chair. "You will not speak unless you're spoken to, Mr. Higgins," she snapped. "You are in enough trouble as it is, so I would suggest you listen, though I'm aware that ability escapes you most days during your lessons."

The boy crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Gabrielle Anderson, who shrunk back from him, clutching Rebecca's robe around her tightly. Rebecca directed her to a chair across the room, away from Higgins.

"I discovered these two in a classroom on the floor above, both in a state of undress," Rebecca said. "I've waited to question them until now. We'll begin with you, Mr. Higgins, since I must wait for Miss Anderson's Head of House to arrive."

Severus watched her work, noticing that she appeared completely calm. Then he saw her hand shaking before she clenched it into a fist. There was the rage he was expecting.

Higgins, meanwhile, remained where he sat, mouth clamped firmly shut.

Severus was familiar with the boy, who had always been somewhat of a troublemaker, though never quite to this extent. The girl he knew very little about, except that she was passable at potion-making and better with her wand work. The fact that he had been woken so suddenly was also not helping, as his mind was still somewhat fogged and running slowly.

What he did know was that Rebecca was performing admirably in the situation, and that annoyed him slightly. He watched as she stepped toward the boy.

"Mr. Higgins, tell myself and Professor Snape what you were doing in that classroom with Miss Anderson."

"Go to hell, _professor_."

"Ten points from Slytherin for your attitude, Mr. Higgins. You are on the verge of being unceremoniously _expelled_ from this school—do not test me."

She sneered, which would have worked on students younger than him. But Higgins remembered her from his first two years at Hogwarts and had a difficult time treating her like a member of the faculty.

Professor Flitwick entered the office and took in the situation. Severus gave him a nod, and the smaller man went to stand beside his student, who watched the conversation with wide eyes.

Severus took a step closer to the boy, invading his space. He stared down at the Slytherin student and growled.

"I suggest, Mr. Higgins, that you comply with Professor Felan's request. I have the forms for expulsion within my desk at this very moment." He narrowed his eyes at Higgins, daring him to call his bluff.

"You had better begin cooperating, Mr. Higgins," Severus continued. "And remorse would aid you here as well. A wizard who has not graduated from Hogwarts has very little chance of doing well later in life."

Higgins stared at Severus for a long, tense moment before finally turning to Rebecca.

"Why did you ask Miss Anderson out tonight?"

"We've been dating and she hasn't been meeting my needs."

"So what was your plan for her tonight?"

"I thought that if I could get her to go with me and show her what she'd be getting, she'd let me. I didn't think she would freak out so much." He looked over his shoulder at the girl across the room from him. "Gabrielle, I'm sorry."

The girl glanced at the floor as she hugged Rebecca's robes tighter about her.

"Enough. Miss Anderson?" Rebecca turned to the girl who still shivered under her cloak. "What were you doing out tonight?"

"Jeff and I have been seeing each other," she said. "He said he wanted to meet me tonight… That he had a surprise for me."

"What happened when you got to that classroom I found you both in?"

The girl hesitated, but a look to Flitwick reassured her. "He didn't have anything for me like he said. He started taking off his clothes and tried to put his hand up my skirt. I didn't want him to, so I pushed him away. He pushed me back into the desk. You walked in before anything could happen."

Rebecca nodded. "Thank you, Miss Anderson. Professor, I'll leave you to your student."

"Thank you, Professor Felan. She'll be well taken-care of," said Filius.

Filius offered the girl his own, magically enlarged cloak, which she took up, leaving Rebecca's cloak on the chair she'd been sitting upon. When they left, Rebecca turned to Higgins.

"For someone who's almost of age, Mr. Higgins, you're severely lacking in temperance and common sense," she told him. Rebecca let out a long sigh as she observed the boy before her.

He stared down at his hands, clasped together in his lap, his legs shaking restlessly as the silence went on in the office.

"Mr. Higgins."

The seventh year looked up at her, his eyes wide.

"Tell me how you feel."

He squirmed, looking between them. "I didn't want this to happen. I was just trying to fit in."

Rebecca's brows furrowed.

"The others in my year, they've all… done it."

"I see."

"I thought they'd stop giving me hell for it if I could convince Gabrielle that it'd be all right."

"Another point for cursing, Mr. Higgins."

"Sorry, professor," he said quickly.

Rebecca looked at the boy some more, considering his expression, body language, and the tone of his voice replaying in her head. She felt her hands still shaking slightly, both from adrenaline and also her anger at the situation. But Higgins' other instances of acting up were nothing like this, and it sounded as though this was stemming from ignorance and inexperience more than anything.

Severus watched her process through what the boy had told her. He didn't wish to interrupt her thoughts. It was the Head of House who needed to make the decision.

Rebecca straightened her back. "This is your punishment, Mr. Higgins: three months' worth of Friday and Saturday night detentions, alternating between myself and Mr. Filch, expulsion from the Quidditch team, a four-foot long essay due on my desk at the end of the week concerning the psychological effects rape has on an individual as well as the importance of consent, and forty additional points from Slytherin. You may not have any additional contact with Miss Anderson unless you are apologising to her, which you best had—in writing. Should you attempt anything like this again, and trust me I _will_ find out if you do, I will have you expelled immediately. Do I make myself clear?"

Higgins hung his head. "Yes, professor."

"I'll escort you back to the common room now," she said, looking down at him with disgust and severe disappointment.

Severus moved to stand beside her momentarily. "Afterward, you will need to return for paperwork."

She nodded curtly without looking at him; her attention was to the boy slowly standing.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Severus went to his filing system and searched for the proper forms for her to fill out. It would most likely keep her here for the remainder of her rounds. Filius could fill his out at any point, considering his student was the victim, who would not be punished.

He located the forms and turned them to face the chair on the opposite side from his. He set up the quill and ink well, too. There was nothing left to do but sit and wait. It would not take her very long; she walked briskly, and there was a secret passage the professors could use to get to certain areas of the castle much faster than students could.

Severus shook his head at the situation. These sorts of instances were very rare at Hogwarts, but it would _naturally_ be her that discovered the two students. The shaking of her hand had not disappeared throughout the entire meeting.

Rebecca reentered the office after ten minutes, trying to keep her thoughts clear. As she entered, she saw him seated behind his desk.

"I've laid out the paperwork for you already. You may have a seat."

"Thank you."

She knew she sounded as tired as she felt. Rebecca sat down and picked up the quill, sighing as she dipped it into the ink well and began scribbling on the first bit of parchment. It was half-past midnight already, and her night wasn't quite over yet. No wonder the professors were sometimes on edge in the mornings.

While she wrote, Severus had gotten up and begun to pace. Him doing so behind Rebecca made her somewhat nervous, if only because she did not like people behind her, particularly when she was sitting. So she began to speak to relieve some of her tension.

"Miss Anderson is a fifth year," she said as she wrote down what transpired. "Fifteen years old." She paused. "She's a sweet girl, but no real hand at Potions. Filius says she's rather good at Charms work." The quill pressed harder onto the parchment as she wrote the boy's name. "Higgins, on the other hand, just had me make the most trying decision of my entire life."

She heard him stop pacing, and the room was quiet for a long pause.

"You don't need to do this."

She looked at him over his shoulder and gave a tiny smile. "That's kind of you, but I can manage. The perks of being a professor."

She turned back to the parchment and continued writing. He kept up his pacing. He stopped again, and Rebecca knew he was directly behind her once more.

"I'm fine, Severus," she said quietly. "I'm not going to fall apart every time I encounter something like this. Greyback is dead and can't hurt me anymore. Now it's my job to make sure students are safe."

Rebecca looked at the form once more and re-read the bottom part for the third time. "It may be my sleep deprived state, but this part doesn't make any sense."

She pointed with the quill, and he leaned over the back of her chair to read the part.

"Legalese that asks for the conflict resolution and suggestions for further punishment should the student be caught breaking any other rules," he said.

He did not move from this spot, and Rebecca wasn't sure what to think of it. She did her best to ignore him while she wrote the necessary information out. A shiver went up her spine at a sudden draught in the castle. Her cloak could wait a moment while she finished these.

Severus' presence was no longer directly behind her, and she heard his footsteps crossing the room. She nearly turned to see what he was up to, but his footsteps indicated that they were returning to her, so she sat still. Her cloak draped about her shoulders just a second later, his fingertips gently grazing either shoulder.

He stepped past her and went to sit on the opposite side of his desk from her, watching her work. She attempted to look unconcerned at the gesture he'd given her. Quickly, she finished the paperwork, sliding them to him.

He perused over the documents to make certain everything was in order.

"You know, it's hard sometimes. Remembering that the war's over. That we don't have to be on our guard constantly."

Her voice persuaded him to look up and meet her gaze. Her eyes flicked back and forth over his desk and up at him, as if wondering what she was doing speaking.

"I understand that it's difficult to change," she said. "Moving forward seems a foreign concept sometimes, even when everyone else is doing just that."

Severus said nothing.

"But we were always different, you and I. Even before I was a spy."

A slight tremble in his lips, or perhaps that was her imagination.

"I'm still angry, Severus." Rebecca paused, looking at him evenly. "You broke what little trust we had between us." She licked her lips. "But I broke what little faith you had in me."

Severus stared into her emerald green eyes for the thousandth time in his life. Finally, he looked down at the parchment in front of him and signed the bottom of each page with a flourish of the quill.

"You're dismissed, Professor Felan," he said sternly, but quietly.

Rebecca stood and exited his office, hands held together in front of her. Still they shook.


	20. Interhouse Competition, Oct to Nov

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except Rebecca, and don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **I know how much you all wait for these updates, and I want to thank each and every one of you who comment, follow, and favorite this story. It truly warms my heart every time I get a notification about it. My life is so hectic right now, and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. I hate putting this story on the back burner, but that is what has occurred. But, never fear. I never forget about it. I have so much planned for this story, and I promise it will get better. I promise to try and stay as true to the characters as I possibly can and make this the best story that I can. Thank you all again for reading

* * *

_Another Weasley, October 6, 1999_

It was all very mysterious, the reasoning behind this get-together. Fleur's parents were even sitting in the kitchen of Shell Cottage while the rest of the Weasleys were milling about. Rebecca would have felt out of place among the direct family members had Bill and Fleur not also invited Remus and Teddy, Andromeda, Minerva, and—the most shocking invite of all— Severus Snape.

Bill had greeted the three professors, who had walked in simultaneously, very warmly, even shaking Severus' hand longer than what Rebecca would've thought her former Potions Master would have been comfortable with. On the walk down to the gates that marked the wards, Minerva had asked Severus about the manner of his invitation; he claimed ignorance, which signaled to Rebecca that there was something deeper to this all.

It was a few more minutes after the arrival of Ron and Hermione that Bill finally called for quiet, Fleur by his side. Both of them grinned at the crowd in their home. Bill reached over and touched the small of Fleur's back, drawing her gently closer to him—a protective gesture. Rebecca smiled back at them, the mystery suddenly gone.

"We'd like to thank everyone for coming on such short notice," Bill said. "We're sure you had other plans on a lovely Saturday evening such as this."

"And if you've got bad news, you better get on with it, Bill," said a chuckling George.

Bill laughed. "No, this news is good. Great, even."

He looked down at Fleur, who smiled at him before looking back to the crowd. She blushed prettily.

"We are going to 'ave a child," she said.

The room was in an immediate uproar, even Minerva losing her usual calm demeanor in the wake of so many raising their voices in celebration. Severus and Rebecca were left in a corner of the living room, standing apart. Severus' expression had not changed, but still Rebecca smiled.

Finally, a lull came over the family and friends.

"And how long have you been keeping this from us?" cried Molly, hugging Bill to her so hard that he couldn't answer.

"I'm three months along," Fleur said.

"We wanted to be certain before we told anyone," Bill said, finally being released from his mother's grip. Mr. Delacour was standing in front of him, reaching for Bill's hand. He gave his son-in-law a hearty handshake.

Rebecca glanced at Severus, who stood very still, trying his best to sink back into the shadows of the room. He was here because of the potion he made Bill when he'd been attacked by Greyback, but there was something else. He'd not reacted to the invitation to the event at all. Rebecca knew that there was very little that this could mean, but she would not pester him for it. After all, he wasn't one who enjoyed his kindnesses paraded in front of everyone.

She approached the crowd, which was beginning to disperse slightly toward the kitchen as George had offered to begin making drinks for everyone. The hours began passing as everyone drank, talked, laughed, and continually expressing their joy for the new couple, who revealed they didn't know the child's sex and only had a vague idea of when he or she would be due.

"We ensured we wouldn't know," Bill said quietly to Rebecca.

She had just come out of the kitchen and stood next to Bill just before he admitted the secret. Her head tilted toward him.

"Oh?" she said.

"We would've called on you, Becca, but we wanted to make sure everything was a secret." Bill's voice was low, but he didn't need to whisper—the room was loud enough to cover everything but yelling.

"You asked Severus."

Bill nodded. "Fleur suggested it, actually. She said he'd be the most impartial and couldn't be swayed to tell us anything no matter how much we begged."

"I can't say I would've been able to hold out," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

"So then you understand."

"Of course." She smiled. "Congratulations again, Bill."

The party was winding down when Rebecca finally was able to approach Fleur, who sat between her parents, sipping water out of what would normally have been a wine glass. She smiled kindly at Rebecca and beckoned a chair with her magic so that she could sit with the Delacours for a while.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you, but ze 'ardest part is not yet over," Fleur said.

"I can only imagine." A pause. "How is your sister?"

"She is well," Mrs. Delacour said.

"In school at ze moment," said Mr. Delacour.

Rebecca nodded. She spoke with the family for a few moments before Fleur's parents excused themselves. They were being beckoned by Molly and Arthur to share in another toast. Fleur watched them fondly as they left, a smile on her face and a hand on her stomach.

It was a blissful moment of silence between the two of them in the tumultuous air the party created. Finally, Rebecca looked at Fleur.

"I never got a chance to properly thank you for doing all that you did for me during the war," she said quietly. "You barely knew me, and yet you showed me a great deal of kindness that I'm not sure I can repay."

"Please," Fleur said, putting her hand over Rebecca's. "We did ze thing decent people would."

"Something that could've gotten you killed. And then you extended your kindness to Olivander in my absence."

"Losing either of you would have been a great loss to ze wizarding world," Fleur said, squeezing Rebecca's hand gently. "We are not as close to you as you are with 'arry, Ron, and 'ermione, Rebecca, but we do respect you a great deal. Know zat."

Rebecca smiled slightly, finding herself squeezing the woman's hand in return. Her eyes traveled to Fleur's still relatively flat stomach.

"I have an odd request," Rebecca said, glancing back up at Fleur.

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I impart some wisdom to your son or daughter?"

Fleur chuckled. "You may try, but I do not think 'e or she will 'ear you."

"Perhaps not. But I think it's important that he or she hear it."

Rebecca knelt before Fleur amidst a clamor of noise. No one paid them any mind, or so she believed. Despite their rough start, Rebecca enjoyed Fleur's company and respected the love between her and Bill, even with Molly's doubts after Bill's injury from Greyback. Truly, this was more a message for Fleur, the woman who was stronger than she gave herself credit for.

She placed a hand upon Fleur's stomach and looked directly at it. "You, little one, are so much more than just another addition to an already wonderful family. You're a symbol of everything your mum and dad worked so hard for. You symbolize what might not have been possible had they acted any differently than they had. Most importantly, you are a child of love—something to be proud of. You are a mark of our victory. And that is something I hope you never forget."

When Rebecca stood, Fleur's eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "I do 'ope that you will no longer be a stranger to us, Rebecca," she said, her voice heavy with emotion. "You are always welcome 'ere."

Rebecca smiled. "Thank you. I'll be sure to call for tea more often."

It was soon time to leave for Hogwarts. After bidding everyone a good night, Rebecca, Minerva, and Severus Apparated upon the beach in front of Shell Cottage. When they reached the grounds of Hogwarts, Minerva walked ahead of them, intent upon getting to her bed faster than the younger professors.

Rebecca was content to walk a slow pace back to the castle, enjoying the night air and the nearly full moon. But she noticed that Severus was not far ahead of her, and had, in fact, stopped on top of the small hill that marked the wards surrounding the castle. She came to stand beside him and also stopped, looking over the view that was laid out before her.

"Beautiful," she said.

"Just as, I'm certain, Mrs. Weasley felt about your words to her," Severus said quietly.

Rebecca turned to look at him. "I wasn't aware anyone else was paying attention."

"It did appear to be an act meant to be private, covered up by the very fact that a party is an entirely un-private affair."

Rebecca felt the ends of her lips rise in a tiny smile. "Don't worry, Severus. Your secret isn't mine to share."

His lips went into their customary thin line to show his annoyance.

"They were both very grateful for what you did. But I'm curious as to why you agreed to it."

Severus looked at her a long while, brows furrowed. Then he turned to look up at the castle, bathed in the light of the moon.

"As you said to Mrs. Weasley, that child is a symbol of all of our accomplishments. The next generation after this insanity will determine how this world continues: whether we thrive and improve as we have been, or whether there will be another Dark Lord to bring our society to yet another edge."

He looked at her, his black eyes seeming to pierce through her. "I now know much about this child of our new generation that others do not, and can surmise the rest. I was not going to miss such an important moment of history."

"I thought for a moment you were going to get sentimental on me, Severus."

"Because I have somehow struck you as the type to want children or want their company like so many others," he said flatly.

"I had never presumed to know much of you beyond what you've told me, particularly where that is concerned," Rebecca said, taking a step forward. She paused and looked at him over her shoulder. "But I do know that you are not quite as heartless as you wish others to believe."

She walked away from him, leaving him to his thoughts out in the lovely night air. The crisp feeling of fall was fully upon them, and soon the chill of winter would begin taking over the castle.

Severus watched Rebecca Felan walk away from him, her hair like the fire that he would soon be building within his chambers. He glared at her frame, hating that he had allowed her to get so close that he was all but transparent to her even still. How he allowed himself to still be so transparent. She was a meddling fool.

* * *

_Halloween, October 31, 1999_

"I have noticed that the gems in the Slytherin hourglass have not been dropping since Mr. Higgins' incident," Minerva said, glancing at Rebecca beside her.

"He was an example others weren't willing to follow," Rebecca said.

"At least you were able to find his replacement for your team fairly quickly."

"Miss Greengrass was all too happy to take up the post of Keeper."

"How is she faring in practises?" asked Filius.

Rebecca smirked. "Filius, you think you can trick me into revealing information about my team."

Filius smiled. "Of course not! Simply being friendly."

"Of course."

She and the other Heads of Houses—Christopher Burns (also the new Muggle Studies professor), Filius, and Pomona—had a friendly banter going between them. All of their Houses were close in the running since the beginning of the year, but now Slytherin was behind from Jeffery Higgins' incident earlier that month. Rebecca was keen on getting back those points in the Quidditch matches. The first one was going to be next weekend, and she had been making sure her team was prepared. Her team captain, Graham Pritchard, a sixth year, had assured her that all was well.

Rebecca turned her attention to the Great Hall, its decorations of Jack-o-lanterns, what she hoped were fake skeletons, floating black candles, and cobwebs (complete with spiders) were always stunning, if a bit scary for their reality. The Headmistress warned the professors that they would have to be on the lookout for any pranks, as Halloween was naturally the perfect time for something big to happen.

She stole a glance down the table. Severus had stopped taking as many points from her Slytherins since their visit to Bill and Fleur's. But now he was staring intently at their table. Rebecca's eyes flicked over to her Slytherins, where she saw a few of the older students whispering together.

Possibly having the feeling of being watched, the students looked up toward the staff table. Their Head of House glared at them, and that was enough for the three friends to turn back to their plates.

"Impressive, my dear," Minerva said.

"I won't have Slytherin cause any further embarrassment. We'll win the House Cup even if it kills me."

Minerva smiled fondly. "I recall hearing another young Head of House saying something similar."

Rebecca chose to let the comment go, turning back to enjoy the feast the house elves had prepared for them all. Since the announcement of the impending Weasley child, Rebecca had been to visit that family more often. Fleur, she discovered, was a skilled conversationalist and extremely kind. She insisted on giving Rebecca and Hermione makeup tips the last time they were over, and even managed to add some highlights to Rebecca's hair with a wave of her wand. She and Hermione decided to humour Fleur, who would not risk performing the spells upon her person lest she harm her unborn child.

"Ze baby iz not in any danger, you understand," she told them. "But I 'ave always been told to ere on ze side of caution."

Rebecca decided to keep the small changes Fleur had made to her hair, but she still never wore makeup unless she was going to visit someone outside of the castle. Brewing potions and watching over students who did was not kind to makeup.

Lost in her thoughts, Rebecca wasn't aware that nearly half the feast had flown by without her speaking to those about her. She looked up from her plate to let her eyes sweep across the Hall. Her Slytherins were acting normally, most of them finishing up their meal and speaking with their friends. The Gryffindors were milling about their table, most of them focused on a description their Quidditch captain was giving to others, presumably about something in practise. Hufflepuff was acting much the same as her Slytherins, but one of them was making shadows on the wall behind them with charms. Most of the students of Ravenclaw were focused on their small groups of friends, but three of them were unusually quiet and separate from the others.

Rebecca was about to say something to Minerva when Nearly Headless Nick and the rest of his Headless Hunt passed through the wall of the Great Hall. Peeves began literally bouncing off the walls, cackling and throwing things. Nick led the Headless Hunt over Slytherin's table. Her students were immediately in an uproar. The rest of the tables suddenly began a food fight that began at the Ravenclaw table and spread quickly.

She stood the same time as Minerva, who was barking orders at the ghosts to stop what they were doing and receiving no results. Rebecca bounded over the staff table and ran to her Slytherins, wand out.

"Miss Greengrass! Mr. Pritchard! Mr. Baddock! Miss Bainbridge! Mr. Harper! Miss Baldock! Gather your Slytherins and get out of this hall!" Rebecca cried over the roar of students, professors, and ghosts.

As she supervised her Prefects gathering the rest of Slytherin House, Rebecca turned to find Peeves flying straight for her. She brought her wand up and pointed it directly between his eyes. The poltergeist shrieked, trying to stop in mid-air.

"_Waddiwasi_!"

Peeves was no longer an issue as gum assaulted him from all sides. Rebecca turned back to her Prefects to find them ushering the rest of their House toward the front of the Hall, which was blocked off.

"This way!" Rebecca said, directing them to the back. It was generally only used by professors, but it would lead them directly to the dungeons.

"Miss Greengrass, make certain that no-one leaves the common room until I come and speak with you all!"

"Yes, professor!"

Knowing her Slytherins were on their way to getting out safely from the chaotic Great Hall, Rebecca turned to see where she would be most helpful. She realized that not all of the castle's ghosts were here.

"Baron!"

He appeared, as if he'd been waiting for her call. Rebecca looked to him. The ghost viewed the Hall with a sneer.

"I need your help," she said.

"So it would seem."

"Can you and the other ghosts who aren't a part of this contain the others?"

"It would be my pleasure," the Baron said with a smirk.

"Thank you."

He disappeared, and Rebecca looked once more to the room. She put up the best Shield Charm she could muster and set off to find the three Ravenclaws she'd seen just before all of this had started.

She reached the students in question, placing a hand each on the nearest of the two students' shoulders. The third student did not attempt to run, but merely dropped the pie she was holding to the floor. Other students and ghosts were still causing mayhem around them. Rebecca brought the three into the protection of her Shield Charm so she could keep an eye on them.

"Professor Flitwick isn't going to be happy with you," Rebecca said, shaking her head.

Suddenly, Severus' voice boomed throughout the Hall. "All students are to report to their common rooms immediately. Prefects, patrol your common rooms to make certain that no one leaves until your Head of House comes to speak to you. All professors are to report to the staff room the moment all of their students are accounted for."

The Baron was good to his word. The ghosts who were not Hogwarts denizens were cleared out of the Hall, making it significantly easier for the professors to regain control of the remaining students. Soon, the Hall was clearing out.

"Professor Felan."

Rebecca turned to find Severus approaching her, brows furrowed and eyes flashing at the students who were around her.

"You've gotten your students under control?" he snapped.

She nodded. "And, as you can see, the Baron's taken care of the ghosts for us, professor," Rebecca said. She pushed the students forward. "These three should have a word with Professor Flitwick and perhaps yourself and the Headmistress."

He gave a curt nod. "Escort them to Professor Flitwick immediately. He will see to them. Go to your common room and report back here as soon as you can. We must clean this mess up."

Severus glared at the students, who cowered before him. "Or perhaps it won't be us cleaning this up. We may be able to convince Mr. Filch to oversee our troublemakers in cleaning the entire Hall this evening the Muggle way."

The students' faces went white.

"Merely the beginning of their punishments, of course, sir," Rebecca said. "I'm sure Professor Flitwick will enjoy hearing that idea."

She nudged the students forward and dropped them off with their none-too-happy Head of House. Rebecca excused herself to return to her common room. There, she was able to account for all of her students. She grinned.

"I would like to thank you all for listening to myself and your Prefects," she said. "You have shown that Slytherin House is not the House of troublemakers this evening, and you will all be rewarded. Twenty points to the Slytherin Prefects for their fast actions and twenty to the rest of you for not participating in the chaos."

A few smiles graced the crowd along with many nodding heads.

"Now, who'd like to eat their dessert instead of wearing it?" Rebecca asked.

That got quite more attention. Rebecca called for a house elf, who ended up bringing the Slytherins their desserts that were unable to be eaten. She left her Slytherins while they were still eating, making the trek back to the Great Hall.

There, she found Severus outside the entrance, looking into it with a smirk. Rebecca peered into the Great Hall to find Filch grinning as he held and petted Mrs. Norris. He watched over the three Ravenclaw students, who were indeed beginning to clean everything up the Muggle way.

"A just punishment," she said.

"And as you pointed out, only the beginning," Severus said. "We're needed in the staff room."

He began the walk down the corridor, and Rebecca followed him. The thought crossed her mind that he may have been waiting for her. But that couldn't be. He'd been overseeing Filch taking over charge of the Ravenclaws.

"Minerva praised you for gathering your students so quickly," he said.

"I did not wish for them to lose us anymore points."

"And you rewarded them well."

"Naturally."

"Do not let them get too used to your coddling," Severus said, eyeing her from the curtain of his black hair. "They will not know what to do with themselves out in the real world without someone holding their hands."

"They suffered a great loss at the hands of one of their housemates earlier this month. I figured a bit of a pick-me-up was in order."

Severus turned his head. "You're doing them no favours."

"And you're not the Head of Slytherin House anymore," Rebecca said, stopping in front of him. "My methods have been working thus far, and should I need advice, I will seek it. Until then, perhaps it would be best if you kept your opinions to yourself."

She strode onward, leaving him standing in the corridor watching her. Severus had known he'd get a rise from her, and it settled something inside of him that had wanted to interact with her, however trivial or argumentative that it was.

When he finally entered the staff room, the only seat left was beside her. He took it without any expression. The room was silent, all of the professors looking annoyed and tired.

"_That_ was a fiasco," he said after a minute of silence. "We are lucky that Professor Felan reacted as she did. Slytherins are notoriously hard to handle, and are known for making a difficult situation exponentially worse."

"My Slytherins are easy to handle when given the proper incentive, such as winning the House Cup," Rebecca said, glancing at Severus before addressing the rest of the table. The professors had been nodding at Severus' words of praise, which had been a surprise to her.

"An admirable incentive though it is, perhaps you're in over your head, professor," said Christopher Burns, the new Muggle Studies professor and Head of Gryffindor.

"You'll find I'm rarely underwater, Professor Burns," Rebecca said quickly, turning to him. "And perhaps you should question your Gryffindors closely, as it was Nearly Headless Nick who brought his Headless Hunt through the Great Hall this evening. It was _my_ House's ghost that aided in clearing them out."

Burns' face went beet red before he opened his mouth to retort.

"Enough," said Minerva, sounding more tired than irked by their bickering. "Burns, I will help you in questioning the Gryffindors tonight. Perhaps that will help us get through this more quickly. Professor Davies, you will assist Filius to see if there are any other troublemakers in Ravenclaw we may have missed." She shifted in her chair. "Does anyone have any suggestions for how we may avoid such a catastrophe in the future?"

"I suggest canceling the upcoming holiday festivities as punishment and an incentive to ensure that they understand holidays are privileges," Severus said.

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus," Sprout said.

"Perhaps the Deputy Headmaster has a point, Pomona," Burns said. "Behavioural therapies have shown that—"

"Oh, sod your behavioural therapies!" said Hooch. "By that logic you might as well cancel Quidditch matches for all those involved."

Minerva rubbed her forehead as the professors continued to bicker for a moment. Rebecca kept her mouth shut, watching what was happening around her. She saw Severus move out of the corner of her eye, and he held the room at attention without even raising his voice.

"Might I then suggest that we call an assembly to discuss how the expectations of this institution were severely let down in tonight's shenanigans, and that, going forward, modifications will be made to the behavioural rules such as curfews, outdoor privileges, and the like."

There was a large pause. "I think that the Deputy Headmaster had a good idea," said Rebecca. "Punishing all the students for this is unfair, especially since a majority did not participate. That would only divide the Houses further from one another, and I think this school had enough of that in my seventh year."

The other professors nodded along with her words. Rebecca continued.

"If the Headmistress and Professor Snape talk to the students as a strong unit, both of them taking their turns explaining the expectations, I believe the students will be receptive. Additionally, I'd like to suggest we form a list of punishments should the students not follow these expectations. Those punishments should be read by Professor Snape."

She looked quickly to the Headmistress, not wanting to focus on Severus. "No offense, Minerva, as you're terrifying in your own right, but you have to remember that _you've_ never been someone's Boggart."

Minerva smirked while the rest of the staff chuckled—all but Severus, who looked neutral.

"I understand," Minerva said. She glanced at the rest of the professors. "And the rest of you?"

"Hear, hear!" said Flitwick. "Though I imagine that even if Minerva and Severus are leading this assembly that we—particularly the Heads of Houses—need to do something to reaffirm it."

"He's right," Pomona said. "Perhaps bringing back the mandatory monthly House meetings…"

"Now, I don't know about that, Pomona," Flitwick said, shaking his head. "They were a bit taxing at the best of times."

"The Interhouse Games," said Hooch.

Again, all eyes shifted to Minerva and Severus. He glanced around the table before letting his eyes linger upon Rebecca. She met and matched his even stare with her own until he finally turned his attention to the Headmistress.

"Ultimately, this is your decision, Minerva," he said.

"It has been some time…"

"It's worth it and you know it," Hooch snapped.

Minerva pressed her hands flat against the table for a moment before responding. "It is at least worth considering in lieu of House monthlies. If you four would agree to meet with Severus and see if such an event could be coordinated…"

The four Heads nodded. Severus sighed.

"Far less taxing than meeting with your own Houses, I imagine." He looked around at the Heads, his eyes landing and remaining on Rebecca. "Something could be arranged this weekend. A meeting with you individually and then as a whole, if that would please the masses."

Rebecca nodded along with the other Heads. "That's amiable to me. I think the games would benefit the students, which is something that we need right now more than anything. They're restless, trying to find their places. If nothing else, it'll give those of us not as interested in Quidditch something else to look forward to."

She smiled at Hooch, who gave a nod back in her direction. "Seems like everyone's on board."

"Lovely. No may we go speak with our Houses?" Burns asked.

"Yes, yes, Christopher. I'll accompany you to the Gryffindor tower," Minerva said. She stood from her chair. "Those who need to, attend to your Houses if they still are in need of questioning. The rest of you are dismissed for the evening."

The professors began pushing back from the table, a few already quick to follow the Headmistress out of the staff room. Rebecca stood, intending to leave, but felt a slight touch upon her wrist. She paused, knowing Severus, who had been sitting next to her, was attempting to get her attention.

She turned toward him, most of the professors already at the door or out of the room. He was watching her with his usual look: face half-hidden behind his black hair, eyes flicking over every inch of her face momentarily before settling on her eyes.

"Someone else's Boggart," he said, one eyebrow quirked toward his forehead. "Is that the best you could do?"

While Rebecca continued to meet his gaze, on the inside she knew she had overstepped. Her mind raced to calm herself against his seemingly tame reaction.

She shrugged. "Well, you weren't _my_ Boggart," she said. "And I can hardly say you ever scare me. Most people think scaring Neville Longbottom is a pretty difficult thing to do nowadays, so take it as a compliment."

His eyes narrowed for just a moment. Then he stepped toward her, though they were already close enough to each other, so near were they to the table. From this distance, he could smell her delicate fragrance mixing with her own natural scent.

From her standpoint, the move should have been intimidating. But he had long been out of that category for her. Rebecca tilted her head to look up at him.

"Was there anything else you wished to discuss, Severus?"

There was a pause.

"No. You are dismissed, Professor Felan."

But it was he who turned away first, leaving her alone in the staff room.

* * *

_First Meeting, November 2, 1999_

Rebecca entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and took in the redesign. The last time she'd been here, she'd been on a mission and hadn't had time to take in exactly everything that had happened to her since she'd last been in the classroom for an extended period of time.

If she focused on that, however, Rebecca knew she'd never be able to make it through this meeting, which was probably going to prove trying enough as it stood. The door to his office was open, but before Rebecca could take another step, Severus' voice called out from it.

"I will not wait all day for you, Professor Felan."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and made her way quickly back toward the office. She took the chair on the other side of his desk in her hand, turning it slightly before she sat down. This way, she could keep an eye on the door to her back and on him. Old habits did die hard.

He appeared to be grading, his usual red ink marring some student's paper. She waited in silence, thinking he would finish what he was doing. When that did not happen after a complete minute of silence, she spoke.

"I'm surprised you wished to talk to me about the Interhouse competition first. I have no practical experience with it."

"The memory of the other Heads at this point would not be extremely sufficient," Severus muttered, crossing something out on the page before him. "The competition was not even in practice when I was a student."

"That is quite some time, then," Rebecca said, giving a tiny smirk.

Severus' quill lifted at the same time as his eyes glanced toward her face. He looked back to the parchment.

"I imagine that your nature has compelled you to read all about it."

"It has," Rebecca said.

"And what do you think?" He scribbled something on the bottom of the parchment and set the quill down. Afterward, he lifted his face and met her gaze.

"I think that it favours brute strength over anything else," she replied. "It hardly seems fair for those of us who don't enjoy tossing incredibly heavy objects as far as we can."

Severus' lips pursed. "The games are slightly dated."

"That much is evident."

"You would suggest, then, a reformation of the competition."

"Not entirely, just one that is more balanced—we want to showcase the strengths of all the Houses to give everyone a fair chance."

Severus' eyes flicked down to look at his desk. "I do not think it would be fair to create a task based on stupidity."

Rebecca titled her head slightly and sighed. "I was thinking the task more suited for the Gryffindor in each team would involve showcasing their courageousness."

Severus looked into her eyes for a long while. But she did not shy away from his gaze. Just being in her presence and speaking to her had been something he'd silently looked forward to. And when that notion came to the forefront of his mind, he shoved it back just as quickly.

"Do you wish to transport another sphinx? Or perhaps some dragons would do well."

"I was thinking something about as dangerous, but a little less of a pain to obtain," Rebecca said evenly.

Severus' eyes narrowed.

"You look like I'm about to suggest Azkaban prisoners," Rebecca said.

"Or something worse…"

"Are you done?" Rebecca asked.

Severus sat back in his chair.

"Fluffy."

He sneered, his right leg clenching instinctively. "Why would you even suggest that creature?"

"Because he's terrifying, but easily controlled. Hagrid still sees him occasionally, or so he says, and we know how to control him should he get out of hand. But, the important thing, is no one besides the staff and four others—three of which are no longer at the school and have no contact with any student here—knows how to do it."

"You think that pitting students against a Cerberus is a good idea."

"The happenings at this school have already tried to kill me several times before. I figured that I shouldn't get to have all the fun."

"Any other suggestions?"

"You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I will take it under consideration, professor."

"A maze full of logic and word puzzles."

"For the Ravenclaws, naturally," Severus said.

Rebecca nodded. "A game of wizard's chess."

"Slytherin?"

"Of course. What better way to showcase our talent at choosing who should perish when?"

"And what about the Hufflepuffs?"

"I had issues myself thinking up a good challenge for our final House to participate in. However, I think I've managed."

"And your idea?"

"They have the final competition. This relies on the fact that the four competitors in each group chooses the appropriate House member for each task. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin will go in that order."

Severus nodded, leaning forward.

"I want the Hufflepuffs to pick the winner."

He blinked. "I am not certain that I follow."

"The last task will be a debate. The topic? 'Which team deserves to win and why.'"

Rebecca looked over his face, which was blank. In his eyes, she could practically see his mind turning the idea over and over, trying to find fault with it.

"I believe… that we may go with that idea, barring another professor having a decent idea," Severus said slowly.

Rebecca nodded. "How many teams were you considering?"

"Minerva wishes for all of the seventh years to participate."

"So ten teams of four to begin."

"Yes. Four teams will be eliminated after the first task, then three after the second. Three will go into the final task."

"I can agree with that. Have you thought of a scoring system?"

"The House Heads, naturally, with Minerva and I also voting. It will be out of ten points per judge. The team with the highest total score advances. The teams with the lowest scores must drop out."

Rebecca was quiet for a moment. "This is lacking in teamwork," she said. "Why not have them all participate in the tasks and have them choose a representative in the final task after they hear the debate topic?"

"Agreed. And I can certainly see how that would work out to the advantage to the Hufflepuffs in the final competition," Severus said. "The other members of the team from the other Houses will not know what to do with that particular topic."

Severus watched Rebecca, who still pondered the ideas they had tossed around.

"What will happen if no Hufflepuff argues for his or her own team?" Severus asked.

Rebecca smiled. "That's what I'm hoping they'll do."

He couldn't help himself. A smile crept onto his lips, though it was very small.

"I suppose we'll score them the same way, taking into account who the student argues for winning," Rebecca said. "Then we can decide on the first, second, and third place winners."

"I believe that sounds fair."

"Is there anything else that you need from me?"

The look he gave her made a chill run up her spine. His eyes were alight with a flame she hadn't seen in quite some time. But as soon as she noticed it, it was gone.

"I have noticed that Slytherin appears to be recuperating its points at a steady pace," he said, voice low. "Is there a particular reason for this?"

Rebecca's hands gripped the arms of the chair a moment before releasing them. "Nothing that is against the rules, I can assure you."

"But you must admit, Professor Felan, it is curious at how quickly they are gaining on Hufflepuff."

He'd put that tone into his voice, she noticed. The one that he used upon her this summer, to get her to do what he wished her to do. He wasn't playing fair.

"I have implemented a system where students may attend after-class sessions with me and gain five points for each time they attend," Rebecca said. A half-truth. "I hold them weekly. They are remedial Potions mini-lessons."

"I see," Severus said, folding his hands together on his desk. "And are these sessions open to other Houses?"

"Open, but not well advertised, perhaps…"

She glanced at the door, which remained open. Rebecca didn't think that anyone was there or even in the corridor outside the classroom, but she didn't want to take any chance with the scheme she'd come up for her Slytherins to win.

The way she turned her head after she spoke did not showcase nervousness at revealing what she had done. As a matter of fact, she was completely confident in herself, even holding back the full truth of the situation. She would not give up herself or her students, and he couldn't help but find that admirable.

But at the same time, he could push the situation, get a rise from her, make her tell him her secret.

Severus stood from his chair and rounded to the other side of the desk, walking across his office. He closed the door and turned to look at her once more.

"I can assure you, professor, that your secret is safe here," he said.

"From your actions earlier this term, I wouldn't think you owed your former House any loyalty whatsoever," Rebecca said.

"Despite my feelings toward you, I could never truly take it out on my Slytherins." He took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them quickly. "You have aroused my curiosity."

"Has anyone else taken notice?" Rebecca asked with a raised brow.

On the outside, she remained calm. On the inside was a different story. While she knew exactly what he was doing, it was working. That was truly unfortunate. And it was even more unfortunate that he would choose to use this tactic against her.

"Not as of yet," Severus replied.

Rebecca stood. "Well, I have nothing else to tell you, Severus. I'm not breaking any rules, so I'll take my leave."

She walked around him and toward the door. She almost thought he would let her pass, but she felt his hand grip her wrist. He turned her around to face him.

His face was close, extremely close. He held her there for a moment.

"You will need to make mention of it at least once during your regular Potions class that you're offering extra points," Severus said. "If you don't and the other Heads find out what you're up to, I won't be able to protect Slytherin."

His voice was low, but to Rebecca his deep timbre rang through her chest.

"Who said I needed you to protect them?" she asked quietly.

He glanced away before meeting her look again. "Perhaps I want Slytherin to win as much as you and that is why I wish to protect your secrets."

"I don't think anyone wants this more than me," Rebecca said, her voice at normal level. "Except the students. You can feel their energy whenever you're around them. Just watch their first Quidditch match and you'll see."

"I don't doubt it," Severus said, letting his hand slip from her wrist.

"Good day, Severus," she said, turning toward the door once more.

"Good day, Rebecca."

That gave her a half-moment's pause. He rarely spoke her given name if he could avoid it while she used his freely. She continued on her way out the door, trying not to ponder at their predicament.

* * *

_The Interhouse Competition—First Task, November 18, 1999_

The Quidditch Pitch had been transformed in just a week's time after the first game of the year—Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor. Burns had been smug after their win, but there had been little time to gloat when the pitch needed to be transformed for the first task. Pomona recruited Neville Longbotton (who took time off from his job at the Ministry) to help her coax the shrubs to grow to the immense height necessary for a proper maze.

As Rebecca took her seat atop the stand reserved for judges and professors, she couldn't help but admire the work that had gone into everything. All of the professors had needed to help with this task, just as she imagined would have to go into every task. She was pleased that her suggestions for the tasks had been taken to heart by the other professors and fully supported by the Headmistress. Severus had still seemed unsure of using Fluffy, who was sequestered in the third part of the maze.

The task was simple enough once the teams found themselves inside. Each team would go one at a time and be timed for how long it took them to reach the maze's end. In addition, the teams would gain or lose points based on how they performed the four hurdles set for them within the maze.

Minerva sat next to Rebecca with a sigh. "Hagrid has assured me that Fluffy has been fed this morning."

Rebecca gave a curt nod. "I was there to make sure of it."

"How has helping our dear Groundskeeper with the wrangling of his beast treated you?"

"There were little issues and minor injuries. Nothing that would need me to alert the media," Rebecca said with an amiable smile.

"I do have more than a couple of my Quidditch players competing today, Felan," Burns said as he took a seat further down the aisle. "The Headmistress assured me that all would be safe, but I'm beginning to have my doubts."

Rebecca turned to face him. "Don't worry, Burns. Hagrid is on standby should things get out of hand. Fluffy, however, will be calmer than usual this morning."

"I still think the idea is dunderheaded, but I was overruled," Severus said, taking a seat behind her.

The other professors filed in. Rebecca stayed silent.

"It was ultimately my decision," Minerva said, looking over her shoulder at Severus. "I believed Hagrid and Rebecca would be able to handle… Fluffy should things go amiss. I do not believe they are in any more danger than when Albus brought in dragons or that wretched sphinx for the Triwizard Tournament all those years ago."

As she turned back to face the field, there was a note of finality in the air. Rebecca smirked. The students were already seated, but had been previously told not to cheer until the very end, when the team had succeeded in reaching the end of the maze. If anyone made a peep, they'd be escorted out. This was for the safety of the teams above all else, they had been assured. Luckily, none of Rebecca's Slytherins had taken the warning anything less than seriously. They were all grouped together, looking at the maze intently.

Hooch flew over the field on her broom, wand up.

"Team one ready?" Her voice was magnified, booming about them in the stadium.

Everyone looked to the beginning of the maze. Green sparks shot up. With a wave of her wand, Hooch made giant, red letters appear in the sky over the field.

"On my whistle…"

The shrill sound carried over the field and into the stands. The timer started, and the shrubs opened to allow the first team to enter. As soon as the four members were inside the maze, the shrubs closed behind them.

The first group held Astoria Greengrass. Rebecca recalled with a smirk the angry letter she'd received from Draco upon discovering Astoria participating in dangerous tasks.

Team one made it through the first task, a simple puzzle that required some quick Charm work and the movement of specifically colored wooden pegs into the correct positions within the shrubs. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw gave one another a high-five as the second part of the maze opened itself to them. The team ran through, Astoria on point with her wand ready, the Gryffindor following behind, looking for other dangerous that could perhaps sneak up on them.

"Your knuckles are white, professor…"

Rebecca's hand unclenched reflexively at the sound of his voice so close to her ear. Her brows furrowed as she quickly placed her hands in her lap.

"Not even two minutes in and already your nerves are showing," Severus said.

"You might be slightly nervous too if you had a House to worry yourself over." Her words were clipped, and she turned her attention back to the students reaching the second difficulty.

Severus leaned back, choosing not to take offense to her tone. She should be worried. He thought about prodding her further, but in her current state, he wasn't quite certain whether it would be worth pushing her over the edge, which she appeared to be teetering very close to today. He glanced at the maze, finding the first team puzzling over the second task within their way to achieving freedom from the maze.

The Gryffindor stepped forward this time to begin the way over the task, which required all four contestants to safely pass over the water obstacle upon stones which may or may not hold their weight. To make things more difficult, the correct path shifted every minute.

Burns muttered as his Gryffindor fell into the water as the stone he stood on suddenly disappeared. Instead of being able to swim his way out, the boy flew through the air, having been expelled violently from the water. He landed roughly on the edge, back with his fellow teammates. The four contemplated the task before them and watched another minute as the rocks shifted a second time.

Finally, they all decided to go one right after the next. The Gryffindor went first, and no sooner had he left the first stone than did the Hufflepuff follow. Then came the Ravenclaw, and finally, Astoria.

The first three made it across the water in time, but just as Astoria was about to leap, the stone began to move and her footing faltered. The large Gryffindor reached for her and used her forward momentum to help swing her away from the water and onto the shore. The Hufflepuff boy steadied him.

Magically, the shrubs opened to the correct path as it sensed all of them cross onto the opposite side. Had only a few of them made it or one had tried to go on without the others, the incorrect paths would have opened and led the person or other team members back to the beginning. The team quickly went through it, mimicking their earlier formation.

Rebecca watched as Astoria barreled into the opening containing the Cerberus Fluffy. He turned all three of its heads upon her, growling and baring its teeth. She froze. Rebecca bit the insides of her cheeks, but otherwise held perfectly still.

The Ravenclaw girl snatched Astoria back into the overhang, where Fluffy could not get to them. They backtracked a ways until they were a safe distance from the entrance to the next "obstacle." Rebecca saw them all gesturing wildly to each other as they contemplated what must be done.

The Hufflepuff made a motion to the ground and then pointed to the opposite side of the shrubs. He'd seen the key that they had placed behind Fluffy, which would open the door on the other side of him. But how to get to the key? She could almost see them questioning the Hufflepuff, the obviously more observant one.

Suddenly, everyone turned to the Ravenclaw, who was looking as though she had steam coming from her ears. Then, she perked up and looked to Astoria, talking with her hands.

They'd gotten it.

They moved forward as a group again. Astoria, the Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor stepped through the entrance and began to sing. They harmonized well enough, and soon Fluffy was looking particularly drowsy. All of his heads finally drooped and he began to lie down. The Hufflepuff sneaked past the Cerberus and grabbed the key before tip-toeing his way to the door. The other three members kept up their harmonies as they moved one right after the other past Fluffy, who was now soundly asleep.

The Ravenclaw was the first to trip, and Rebecca didn't realise that she was on her feet and preparing herself to bear down on Fluffy herself, regardless of whether or not Hagrid was feet away from the scene.

Severus watched her eagerly, wondering what she would do. Rebecca stepped forward and gripped the railing as she watched the events unfold below them.

The singing stopped, Fluffy began to awaken. The first head snarled, stirring the second and third heads. The three team members were tangled together and trying to get up, but could not do so quickly enough. A low, whistled tune echoed quietly throughout the stadium. The Hufflepuff boy, the key still in his hand, had run over and began helping his teammates untangle themselves from one another, the entire time whistling a lullaby.

Fluffy was asleep once more, and as each team member stood up, he or she began to hum to keep the creature in his state. They began to walk more carefully to the door on the other side of shrubs. The door was situated in a concrete wall. The Hufflepuff opened the door and ushered the others inside first. While he still whistled, he shut the door and quickly locked it.

Eight minutes had now passed. The team leaned against the door for a moment, gathering their wits and their bearings.

Rebecca finally turned to take her seat once more, with the eyes from all the professors watching her. She met Severus' eyes just before she turned to sit back down. He smirked ever so slightly, derision clearly his intent. She retook her seat with a heavy sigh.

The final part of this maze had been developed by Sprout and Flitwick, and involved the identification of a few non-lethal but definitely in-the-way magical plants and the appropriate Charms to banish or move them. This took an extra five minutes, but finally team one was rewarded with the final door opening of its own accord, and the timer flashing red above them to stop.

"Time called at thirteen minutes, twenty-three seconds!" Hooch cried.

The crowd roared as the team went through the final door, which shut behind them heavily. That called the students to silence once more. The team appeared on the platform opposite the professors, where they had decided all of the teams would sit, watched over by Filch to make sure no one spoke at all or attempted to help another team with the tasks they'd just completed.

"Time for judging!" Hooch said, gesturing towards the professors' platform.

With a wave of her wand, Minerva sent up a score of eight. Severus gave them seven and one-half. Filius' score was an eight, Pomona a nine, Burns an eight. Rebecca sent up eight and one-half. The crowd cheered as the scores floated above each professor.

"Team one's total score is a forty-nine out of sixty!"

The crowd continued its cheering until Hooch called for silence. The second team was about to come out. Severus leaned forward once more, whispering in Rebecca's ear.

"It is not as simple for the one who is meant to protect his or her students."

"I'm in no mood, Severus."

"Do not be cross. This was, after all, your own suggestion."

"That isn't what I meant," she said, shifting slightly so he could see her glaring.

Severus kept his face neutral.

"We are done with this argument and have been for some months. At least that was the impression I was under. Don't bring it up any longer, Severus."

She turned to face the next team and didn't turn to look at him any longer. He was in a sour mood the rest of the time, and no team received above a seven from him for the remainder of the task, which took until lunch.

The teams that were eliminated were teams two, four, seven, and ten. The rankings for the remaining teams were, in order: three, nine, five, one, eight, and six.

As everyone retired to the Great Hall for lunch, Severus found himself waiting for her. She was generally one of the last to leave any place, just as he was. It was much easier to watch others that way, and less likely that someone could bother you or catch you by surprise. She wasn't expecting him, but didn't jump when he began to walk beside her on the path back up to the castle.

"Would you care to explain the way you snapped at your Deputy Headmaster?"

"I thought that I was fairly clear, Severus," she said evenly.

"You were referring to our argument over my decisions regarding Greyback."

Rebecca nodded. "While I wished to react when Astoria and many of my other Slytherins were on the field today, I did not. I nearly lost control, but I didn't, and that is what's important. That is, what I believe, is the difference between us."

She looked toward him. "And that is also why I didn't wish to suffer another of your lectures on the subject."

Severus paused enough that he nearly lost a step. "And what has forced you to imitate an individual made of much sterner stuff, Professor Felan?"

"This is no imitation, Severus. I'm exactly who you wanted me to be: my old self."

"Certainly there is something that has pushed you over your timid edge."

They were at the Entrance Hall, the giant doors open to allow all of the students and staff back inside at once. She stopped here and gave him a long, considering look.

"You. Just as you always wanted it to be."

She left him standing at the front of the Entrance Hall, giving him no time to retort. To do so would mean he would need to raise his voice, to admit defeat to this young chit, a first year professor barely out of her teenage years. He scoffed before entering the castle.

* * *

_The Second Task, December 5, 1999_

There had been no more talks between them unless it was in some way related to Hogwarts or the students. He monitored the Slytherin hourglass and the gems within it carefully. Steadily, Slytherin's place rose. They had overtaken Hufflepuff and were now solidly in third place and quickly catching up to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, who were both neck-and-neck for first place, switching leaders every couple of days.

The past weekend had seen the Slytherin Quidditch team win against Ravenclaw, which was what gave them enough points to put them so firmly in third place. Rebecca had been so pleased that she'd allowed the party in the dungeons to continue for much longer than was necessary.

She radiated confidence, and it drove him inexplicably mad. This had been what he'd wanted. No longer did she seek him out or tempt him with her silly notions of affection. But there was something missing. Their familiar banter and the way that she used to choose to sit close to him at staff meetings no longer occurred, and he was thrust once more into his solitude, which seemed so much less comforting than it used to. Had he truly grown so accustomed to her, even when she could be so infuriating?

The second task was much less exciting than the first, though Minerva had finally allowed them to use an enlarged wizard's chess set. The contestants were in really no danger. The chess pieces moved so slowly that they had plenty of time to get out of the way before the piece they sat upon or stood beside was crushed and brushed off to the side by the attacking piece.

With four less groups, though the games were generally longer with the Ravenclaws running them, they still ended at lunch.

Three teams were eliminated: one, eight, and six. This meant that teams three, one, and five were going into the final task, with the groups separated only by a handful of points. Rebecca was pleased that Astoria's group was doing so well. She would have been proud of any of her Slytherins winning, but Astoria she was very fond of, even though she did not let this favour show when dolling out points. And, as far as she could tell, Draco's courtship of Astoria was going well. It may even get serious once she had graduated. Rebecca would have to wait and see, as her friend was being his notoriously tight-lipped self when it came to his future plans.

In the Great Hall, they all enjoyed a good lunch. Rebecca was in conversation with Filius when a white light shot through one of the upper windows, left open for owls. It landed and formed into Ron's Jack Russell Terrier Patronus formed before her, bouncing up and down impatiently.

"Fleur was attacked. Get St. Mungo's immediately." Ron's voice was unusually tense and rushed.

Rebecca's chair was shoved backward so quickly that it toppled over, landing on its back atop the platform and making a noise loud enough that most of the attention in the room turned to her. She did not stop to pick it up or even to glance at her Headmistress. She was half-way to the door of the Great Hall before she even realized what she'd done, but it was too late to turn back around. Once she was in the Entrance Hall, she broke into a run, her robes flying behind her.

Minerva looked after her Potions Mistress' fading figure, her back completely straight with the news from the Patronus.

"If she is not back by dinner, I will take over her rounds for this evening," she said quietly to Severus. "But I do hope Fleur is all right."

Severus gave a stiff nod. Someone attacking Fleur had to be insane if he or she was willing to risk being on the receiving end of the entire Weasley clan. Moreover, who would attack a pregnant woman, particularly one so well-connected? This positively reeked of Death Eater, which put Severus on edge. He would need to inquire further into this upon Rebecca's return to Hogwarts.

She did return late that night, while Minerva was performing Rebecca's rounds in her stead. She encountered the stern-faced Potions Mistress and nodded.

"Let's go back to my office."

"Call a meeting," Rebecca said. "This concerns us all who fought in the war."

The corridor was completely silent, with Minerva's features opening up to show how startled she was.

"I will call a staff meeting tomorrow morning," Minerva said. "It is much too late to get everyone out of bed. I will summon Severus to my office so we can all discuss this."

Minerva removed her wand to send her Patronus to her Deputy Headmaster.

"Very well," Rebecca said.

Once Minerva's Patronus was sent, the women made their way quickly to the Headmistress' office. When Minerva opened the door, they found Severus waiting for them by the fireplace, already having seated himself.

"I Flooed through to save time," he said.

Minerva nodded, then motioned for Rebecca to sit. She chose the seat closest to the wall, with Severus in the chair directly opposite to her. Minerva sat in the chair directly in front of the fireplace. From her position, Rebecca could see Albus' portrait, who watched with curiosity.

"Please explain what you learned today, Rebecca," Minerva said, looking to the witch. "But first, is Fleur doing well?"

"Fleur is much better and has been sent home with Bill," Rebecca replied, her features relaxing minutely as she spoke the words. "She was attacked on her way home from Diagon Alley, as though she'd been followed. She didn't know who her attacker was, but they went straight for the fetus, not for her."

Minerva's lips formed a thin line while Severus' face remained impassive.

"I looked into her memories at her request, to see if I might help identify her attacker," Rebecca said. "It was another woman, and she had a crude Dark Mark carved into her left arm, but her face was covered."

Its edges were jagged and puffy, hastily engraved into her skin recently and healed quickly by magic.

"Fleur was lucky that the girl was careless and had attacked without thought. Fleur is a good duelist and was able to fend for herself, but she was hit by a curse. Luckily the curse was not very powerful and she was tended to quickly, so her child is fine."

Rebecca had allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief only when she saw Fleur sitting up and looking about. The beautiful woman had beckoned her forward, and Rebecca had rushed to give Fleur a hug, understanding in that moment how torn she would have felt had anything terrible happened to her new friend.

"Harry is aware of what I saw. He will alert the Head and other Aurors as well as Kingsley, but this will be kept quiet until we know whether or not this woman is acting alone. Until then, we should be hyperaware of who is on Hogwarts grounds at all times."

Minerva nodded. "Severus and I will work out some more wards to place and alert Hagrid, Filch, and the portraits to be aware of intruders."

"You do not believe this will be a single incident."

Rebecca finally turned to gaze at Severus, who had been silent and emotionless since the conversation had begun.

"Where there is one, there is many," Rebecca said quietly.

His dark eyes looked long into her green ones, but she did not emote or shy away from his glance. Finally, Severus nodded.

"I must agree with Rebecca," he said. "This will not be a one-time attack. Everyone should be vigilant."

Minerva gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in her chair. "We can never have a normal year at Hogwarts, it seems. If there's nothing left to tell, you are both dismissed."

Rebecca and Severus stood nearly at the same time and crossed the room, she falling in step behind him. When they reached the door, he held it open for her.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she exited to the corridor.

Severus shut the door to the Headmistress' office behind them. He turned just as she was beginning to make her way to the staircase, to return to the dungeons.

"You cannot fall apart now, Miss Felan," he said, his voice easily carrying through the quiet corridor. "Our skills will be needed once more, it seems."

Rebecca stopped and turned stiffly to face him. Her eyes caught the dim light from the lanterns, shining at him in her barely hidden anger.

"Enough of my friends have died at the hands of Tom's followers," she said. "Falling apart can wait until they are just as dead as their former master."

Severus could not help the minute smirk that tugged at his lips. "You're harnessing your rage for your benefit, Miss Felan."

She inclined her head toward him. "A lesson of yours I took to heart, along with many others. Good night, Severus."

She turned once more.

"Miss Felan."

She stopped and peered over her shoulder, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"Do not become consumed by your rage. Do not let it overtake you as it has done for others."

"It's sweet of you to show concern for me, Severus," she said. "But I'm afraid it's a bit late for that."

She walked away from him, her pace steady. Rebecca was much too focused, her mind racing with the innumerable possibilities that the future could hold, for her to be concerned about Severus Snape. There were so many more important things in her life right now: her Slytherins, her classes and other students, and now the safety of her friends. She didn't have time for him. This was what he wanted, after all, wasn't it?


	21. What the Holidays Bring Dec to Feb

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except Rebecca, and don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **Thank you all for your patience. I've had the sudden urge over the last couple of days to write, and the latter two scenes were the results of this. Hopefully you all enjoy them. I really appreciate all of the kind comments left for me, as well as those of you who have favorited this story, me, or have followed the story. You keep me writing, and so do Rebecca and Severus, who still have a lot of unresolved business to attend to.

* * *

_Christmas, December 25, 1999_

"High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life. / Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time. / Hold still right before we crash, 'cause we both know how this ends. / A clock ticks 'till it breaks your glass and I drown in you again. / 'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need. / Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why. / If our love, is tragedy, why are you my remedy? / If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity? / Walk on through a red parade and refuse to make amends. / It cuts deep through our ground and makes us forget all common sense. / Don't speak as I try to leave, 'cause we both know what we'll choose. / If you pull then I'll push too deep and I'll fall right back to you. / 'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need. / Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why. / If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? / If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?" – "Clarity" by Zedd

* * *

Everyone had been on edge since Fleur had been attacked, but nothing else happened after her recovery. There was a sense of impending doom in the air. The Slytherins noticed their Head of House acting strangely: keeping her back close to a wall, overreacting when a student would mess up a potion and nearly hurt someone, and always having dark circles under her eyes.

Severus wasn't going to involve himself in any of it. In fact, he'd found it rather amusing when Burns gave her a snide comment about her Slytherins barely making any headway to overtake Ravenclaw for second place at the staff table one morning and she retaliated with an equally low-blow directed at his nighttime wanderings in the dungeons earlier in the term. Of course, she said it with a perfectly straight face, without looking up from her plate. While Burns sputtered, the Headmistress gave him one of her infamous raised eyebrows. Severus, meanwhile, had to hide his wicked grin in his cup of pumpkin juice.

For the holidays, Minerva had decided to hold the Yule Ball once more, and "to hell if it's only meant for the Triwizard Tournament." She had made the announcement well enough in advance that the students—all of them, unlike the Yule Ball from years earlier—could send home for their dress robes. It was going to be a lovely evening, she decided, something to keep the happiness the Interhouse Competition was keeping about the corridors, even while the professors were on constant watch of threat from outside the school.

This meant that Rebecca had made her rounds to her friends and family the day before on Christmas Eve. She'd been to see the Weasleys, Harry and Ginny, Bill and Fleur, Remus, Teddy, and Andromeda, and even her mum and brother. Her father refused to come from his room upstairs while she was there, but he admitted her into the house now, which was a start. Her mother assured her he would come around eventually, but it would take him time. All of them had exchanged gifts, and her day was generally happy. But even still she couldn't shake the sense of dread, of what could happen next.

When she had returned to her quarters, Rebecca had found a parcel for her just inside her doorway, sitting on the floor. It was of a medium size and wrapped in plain brown paper. She set down her other gifts quickly and took out her wand, performing a few spells to ensure that the parcel was safe to open. When the spells didn't turn up anything untoward, Rebecca picked it up and unwrapped it. In her hands, she held the old copy of _Advanced Potion-Making _once owned by the Half-Blood Prince. She would know this book out of hundreds of copies exactly like it. She left the book sitting on her small table in her sitting area.

On Christmas Day, the castle was abuzz with students preparing themselves for the ball that night. All of the professors would be there to supervise the students and make certain they enjoyed themselves, but were encouraged to wear attire appropriate for the event. This caused Rebecca mild stress until she re-discovered the dark green dress Narcissa had bought for her during the summer months she'd spent with them before her seventh year. She'd worn it for her eighteenth birthday, an awkward affair. With a few alternations (making it fit slightly looser, giving it long sleeves, and altering the cut to be more modest in the front), Rebecca felt more comfortable with it being appropriate for the Yule Ball. She paired it with a dark red shawl to keep with the festive theme. With a light application of makeup, the addition of some jewelry, a quick brushing out of her hair, and a pair of red heels (though not too high), Rebecca felt prepared to go.

She was one of the first to arrive. Minerva complimented her attire and Rebecca returned the favour. The Headmistress was wearing a lovely, long-sleeved black dress with a dark green scarf, her hair done up in its usual bun. The other professors began arriving, the men in their best dress robes and the women in their dresses. The only one missing was Trelawney. Upon inquiry, Minerva explained that she hadn't seen herself having a good time in her tea leaves.

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't press the issue with her."

The last to appear in the Great Hall's entrance was Severus Snape. Rebecca noticed he wore the expensive dress robes the Malfoys had gotten him as a gift. She imagined this had been the first chance he'd gotten to wear them. The robes fit him well. As she went to glance away, she noticed him looking her over. She cleared her throat before taking a sip of her water.

The students arrived quickly after the professors, who set themselves up on the perimeter of the hall. The dancing began with the remaining competitors paired with their teammates. Rebecca smiled at how well the seventh years within the groups got on. The Interhouse Competition had so far gone off without a hitch, and Minerva was pleased with the results of student camaraderie that appeared all over the castle.

Soon, the dances were open to all the students. Severus approached Minerva with a little bow and offered her his hand—the customary dance of the Head and Deputy Head. As Rebecca watched them, her eye caught movement in her direction. Burns was moving toward her, a pleasant smile upon his face. He stopped just in front of her and held out his hand.

"What's say we give our Gryffindors and Slytherins a good show, Felan?"

Rebecca set her drink down. "Sounds fair enough to me."

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her out to the dance floor. As he led the first few steps of the dance, Rebecca decided he danced well enough, but was nothing overly special.

"No hard feelings between us, right, Felan?"

"Of course not, Burns," she said.

"I know I give you a hard time, but our Houses have some history, you understand. I'd give any Head of Slytherin a hard time."

Rebecca smirked. "I don't doubt it."

The song soon ended, and Burns readied himself to take her up once more in a second dance when an imposing figure in black stepped to his side.

"If I may cut in, professor."

Since there was no question in his tone, Burns gave a curt nod and stepped aside for Severus, who gave an inclination of his head toward Rebecca. She returned it just as he reached to take her up in the proper stance for the waltz the music intended.

"You look well this evening," Rebecca said as he led them into the dance.

It was much easier to dance when Severus led. Their movements were fluid, almost as if they were moving with one mind.

"You as well, Professor Felan," he replied quietly.

"I found the gift you left for me," she said. "The copy of your book. I have my own, so I have no use of it. I'll give it back to you tomorrow."

Severus had been looking above her head until she spoke. His brows furrowed slightly. "The Potions Mistress should always keep extra copies of texts in case something should go amiss. I, as the Defense instructor, am the one with even less of a use for it. Keep it, Professor Felan."

Rebecca frowned. "Why are you doing this?"

Just after she spoke, Severus moved her into a little dip. As he brought her back up once more and retook their original stance, he replied.

"I had no idea your mental faculties were so terribly altered by your station as professor that you could not recognize a gift."

"You don't need to get me a gift," Rebecca said.

Severus' long fingers grasped her hand more tightly. "I am more than aware of what I am and am not required to do."

Because they were so close to each other, Rebecca could see very clearly that he was not going to let her give the book back to him, whether she wanted to keep it or not.

"Well, thank you," Rebecca said quietly, looking down.

"You are welcome, Professor Felan."

"I didn't—"

Severus shook his head. "Simply knowing that you will not revert completely back into your spy tendencies will be gift enough for me."

"I'm worried, as we all should be."

"However, this does not mean that you must forget yourself once more in favour of others' well-being."

Rebecca's jaw clenched and she looked to the stones below her feet. Without warning, he let her out into a spin. She came back into his grasp and paused for just a moment.

"Head up while you dance, professor," Severus said.

They began to move once more.

"I know you, Rebecca—this you cannot deny. And I will not have one of the professors under my stead acting erratically when she has students to take care of first and foremost."

"I know that it seems insane, but I know what Fleur saw. This won't be just a one-time incident."

"I have no doubt of your abilities to read a situation correctly," Severus said evenly. "But until you have more information, you cannot obtain the rules necessary in order to play this mysterious woman's game. Do not rush bull-headed into something you're unfamiliar with. You're not a bloody Gryffindor."

Rebecca smiled. "It's still nice to hear you admit it."

Her smile was nearly his undoing. Severus found himself pulling her against him with the hand on the small of her back. Just barely did he stop himself from lifting his hand to brush against her hair, and only her eyes shifting away from his face, indicating that she had seen his near-slip, made him reconsider his movements. Then he recalled where there were. He straightened his back and set his features to neutral once more.

"I must apologise for how I've treated you over the past month," Rebecca said quietly, her words practically stumbling over one another. "I mean, I do feel more like myself, but you are also my Deputy Headmaster—my superior. I shouldn't speak to you in that manner."

"You are under great stress as a first year professor and Head of your House," Severus said. "However, since you are acknowledging your wrong-doing, do not believe that I will allow another slight in public to go without retort."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Severus."

The song ended, and Severus allowed her to step back from him. He bowed his head and then turned, leaving her upon the dance floor. Rebecca looked after him a moment before Hagrid stepped up with a grin and asked her to dance. She smiled and accepted. Though with the half-giant the dance was awkward, they managed to work around it. Afterward, she thanked Hagrid and found a corner, taking a seat to catch her breath.

As she sipped on her water, Rebecca watched the rest of the students dancing as she considered what had just occurred. Had she truly just allowed Severus Snape back into her good graces so easily? It seemed that they were inevitably entwined in their own particular dance around one another's emotions. She had been so irate with him over the past month because of all of her stresses and the fact that he still held her at arm's length. Before that, though, she thought they had been making some sort of progress into… friendship?

Rebecca made a slight face. That wasn't exactly the right word. In any case, they had certainly been friendly. But something within her had broken the day of the first task, when he had berated her for having the feeling of wanting to save Astoria—the Slytherin she most cared for. She could no longer take his words, and so she had told him off and then had had nothing to do with him, secluding herself especially after what had happened to Fleur. In many ways, it was empowering, knowing that she could do this. But she had felt even lonelier inside the walls of the castle, despite the fact that she and her friends communicated daily through Hermione's boxes, of which she'd made more for everyone within their circle.

As her gaze shifted about the room, her eyes landed upon the man in question in the opposite corner from her. There had been a moment while they were dancing, just after she had smiled so brightly at him, where he seemed to revert to their previous state over the summer, when they had become intimate for those few fleeting weeks. But he had stopped himself when she looked away, uncertain of both the timing and her own desires concerning the situation.

Rebecca wasn't sure if she could allow herself to love him as she once had. With that one movement toward her, Rebecca knew that he still cared for her. He never would have forgotten himself so completely if he did not. Above all, this was the most perplexing, as he had been the one who had been so angry at her and willing to let her go—shunning her when she attempted to rectify their situation.

Was he changing, too, and was it because of or for her? Moreover, would Rebecca accept him if he presented himself as changed for her? If she accepted, what would become of her?

Rebecca was thinking too many steps ahead of herself and decided that it was time to stop for now. There were plenty of other important things to concern herself over, and she was supposed to be chaperoning the students. She stood and circled the Great Hall slowly, eyes scanning the crowd of students who were all having a wonderful time.

The younger students began leaving first around ten-thirty. Eventually, the hall was cleared out, with Minerva shooing the last straggles back to their common rooms by midnight. The Headmistress sighed, but smiled.

"I do believe this was a success."

Rebecca nodded. "I would have to agree."

"The house elves will be cleaning this up, so we needn't concern ourselves with it," Minerva said, gesturing to the mess about her. "I've instructed that everyone patrol the areas around their common rooms to make certain that everyone returns to bed without incident. You and Severus will cover the dungeons and the Entrance Hall."

"Of course, Minerva."

The older witch turned away and began walking with Burns, presumably so they could check up on their Gryffindors. Rebecca looked about the Great Hall, but could find no trace of Severus. She shook her head and began to make her way into the Entrance Hall, which she determined was completely empty after her five minutes of searching. Finally, she made her way down the stairs and to the dungeons.

As she descended, she could see Severus approaching her from the other end of the corridor. He received her at the foot of the stairs.

"I've taken the liberty of searching the dungeons for anyone who may have been attempting to extend their festivities," he said. "I have luckily found no one."

"The Entrance Hall and staircase areas are cleared as well. Thank you for checking for me—that will save me some time."

Severus nodded.

"Good night, Severus."

As she turned and walked away from him for the countless time in his life, Severus wondered if he should stop her. But what would he say to her? He had tried to tell her that nothing had changed for him, but she had rebuked him. Many times had Severus Snape put himself on the line for his emotions, which was why he had so turned into himself instead of continually harming himself. Certainly, though, she had to know. It was impossible for her to not know from his actions around her. He found he could never help himself when it came to Rebecca Felan. Losing sense of his mental faculties because of another person was difficult, and she would understand this.

She was only a few steps from him now, and would easily hear him if he spoke. So he took a chance.

"Have you found another to make you happy, Professor Felan?"

Rebecca stopped in the middle of the corridor, but did not turn around or respond.

"I ask so that I might more fully understand your treatment of me this past month," he said.

She looked at him over her shoulder. _There can never be another._ The realisation hit her suddenly, forcing her to take a moment before responding to him.

"No," she said. "There is no other. My treatment of you was all my own, and I have apologised for my behaviour."

There was another pause.

"But are you happy?"

"That's impossible for me to answer right now."

"Why?"

"There's too much going on to prevent me from feeling happiness, even at the little accomplishments."

Severus clasped his hands before him and shifted minutely where he stood. "Before he…." His eyes met hers before he continued, "Albus told me that should I survive all of this, that I must always look for happiness even in the most unlikely times. It was only in this way that I could truly live."

Rebecca turned so that she could fully face him and smiled fondly. "That does sound like Albus."

"I have attempted to put the notion into practise with some positive effects."

"Is that why you spoke to my mother?" Rebecca asked. "Because you thought it would make me happy?"

Severus remained very still for quite some time, hiding behind his curtain of hair. "She told you."

"She didn't have to. I know you, Severus."

Rebecca took the few steps necessary to close the distance between them. Her hand reached toward him, and he looked up, revealing how his eyes were slightly widened by her sudden change in demeanor. Her fingers touched his cheek, palm cupping his face so she could turn his face toward her. Gently, she pressed her lips against his jaw, then let him go.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Severus felt his head turning toward her as if of its own accord. She did not move, but he couldn't tell if it was because she did not wish to or if she was frozen in place from the sudden turn of events. His lips were so close to hers, and it would take no effort to close the distance, to end the constant hammering of his heart against his chest.

Then there were hurried footsteps from the direction of the common room. Severus managed to separate himself from Rebecca by a few inches in his attempt to make it appear as a normal conversation between professors.

"Professor Felan!"

Rebecca turned immediately at the sound of her student's voice. "What's the matter, Miss Greengrass?"

Astoria looked particularly red at the moment, though concern marked her features more than her embarrassment.

"It's one of the first years, professor," Astoria said. "You both should come quickly. We think he's been poisoned."

Rebecca rushed forward, cursing herself for her choice of attire that did not allow her to carry anything with her aside from her wand.

"_Accio potion kit_!" she cried as she extricated her wand from the front of her dress.

They flew down the corridor, entering the Slytherin common room without being prompted for a password, as many Slytherins were already hanging out of it, waiting for their arrival.

"Move, move, everyone stand aside!" Rebecca said. "Leave the door open!"

The Slytherins did as they were told. Astoria led Rebecca to the first year upon the ground, curled upon himself and now beginning to foam at the mouth. Rebecca reached down and placed him on his side, quickly checking for a pulse and finding a weak one.

"Your kit," Severus said, quickly handing her the container she had called for.

Rebecca opened it and took out the bezoar that sat on the top of the inside of the kit. She turned to the student and wiped the foam from his mouth before shoving the bezoar into his mouth. Rebecca closed the boy's mouth and induced swallowing. As soon as she'd done so, the student began coughing, his complexion slowly returning to its former rosiness.

"You had us scared, Mr. Selwyn," Rebecca said, holding onto the boy's shoulders. "I'm going to pick you up so we can take you to Madame Pomfrey."

The boy nodded quickly as he continued to try and catch his breath.

"Miss Greengrass, follow us to the infirmary and explain what happened," Rebecca said. She muttered to her shoes, tapping them with her wand, and the heels disappeared, leaving her in flats. Rebecca then reached around the boy, who put his arms about her shoulders, and she lifted him easily. "The rest of you, get to your dormitories now."

The Slytherins rushed to do her bidding. Astoria knelt where the boy had been lying and, using her wand, levitated the goblet he'd been drinking from.

"This was supposed to be for me," Astoria said. "I'd brought it back with me from the Great Hall tonight."

Rebecca motioned with her head, and she and Astoria, with Severus following behind them, made their way back out into the corridor. The wall of the common room shut firmly behind them.

"Did you leave your glass alone at any point, Miss Greengrass?"

"Only for a moment, professor, I swear."

"Was there anyone about you when you left it unattended?"

Astoria shook her head. "No, not that I could see."

Severus quickened his pace until he was trotting beside Rebecca. "We will need to question all students with pureblood ties. All of those who had families on the side of the Death Eaters," he said quietly.

Rebecca gave a curt nod. "We'll call the Headmistress down once we've gotten Mr. Selwyn in to see Poppy. For now, up the stairs."

The rest of the way was quiet. Once they reached the infirmary, they quickly explained the situation to Poppy and presented the goblet the boy had taken a drink from. Once Selwyn was resting, Poppy went into her office to pen a letter to his parents, which would be sent by owl as soon as possible so that they might visit him in the morning. At that point, Rebecca cast her Patronus to call Minerva.

"Miss Greengrass, please sit with Mr. Selwyn while we discuss our plans," she said, turning to her Prefect. "Professor Snape and I will escort you back to your common room when this is done."

Astoria nodded and did what she was told without question. Rebecca rubbed her forehead and ground her teeth together.

"This can't be a coincidence," she whispered. "That was clearly meant to be an attack on Astoria. But what do her and Fleur have in common?"

"They are both survivors of the war, but their families were on differing sides," Severus said, keeping his voice low as well.

"I need to think until Minerva gets here," Rebecca said, closing her eyes as she let her brain scour the events for any possible connections.

Severus allowed her the quiet that she needed, doing his best to find connections as well. But she had seen Fleur's memory of the event, would know much better how to analyze the situation. He stood by her side and watched her work silently until Minerva appeared, a robe thrown over her shoulders hastily to cover up her nightwear.

"Mr. Selwyn is well, then?" she asked.

Severus nodded. "A bezoar was enough to revive him. He will remain here until Poppy sees fit for him to return to the common room. He's a bit weak, but will recover well."

Minerva let out a sigh of relief. Then she looked to Rebecca, who was still standing with her eyes closed.

"Professor Felan, I must ask that you return to the present world."

"My apologies, Minerva," Rebecca said. "I was thinking there are connections here."

Minerva nodded. "Please share your findings."

"Astoria and Fleur have very few connections other than their families supporting different sides during the war," Rebecca said. "They are, however, connected to one another through a root source: me."

Minerva blinked. "Are you suggesting that you are the reason the culprit is attacking people, Rebecca?"

"I don't see any other way the events can be connected."

"If I may," Severus said.

Rebecca and Minerva turned toward him. The Headmistress nodded.

"They fought on either side of the war. Miss Greengrass is a survivor, her family remaining mostly on the sidelines and suffering very little because of the Dark Lord's downfall. Fleur, however, was on the winning side and has only thrived, even going so far as to begin reproducing. Professor Felan, you even said that Fleur was not the victim, but her unborn child. The culprit, I surmise, is someone who is displeased with how unfairly events have treated her, which means we are all in danger."

Rebecca nodded along with his reasoning. "That _would_ make the most sense. We must be dealing with a Slytherin, someone who still has ties to the castle. Someone snuck the poison into Miss Greengrass' drink at the Yule Ball."

"Merlin," Minerva muttered, shaking her head.

"The whole of Slytherin House saw what happened to Mr. Selwyn," Severus said. "The culprit will soon know that her intended target, Miss Greengrass, is well. She will need protection."

"And, unfortunately, it seems none in her House can be trusted," Minerva said, her lips growing very thin.

"She cannot go back to the common room," Rebecca said. "Not until we know who is in contact with the culprit."

Minerva was quiet for a long moment, thinking. Where to put her?

"Rebecca, you will return with Miss Greengrass to her dormitory and have her gather her things," Minerva finally said. "You will help her search through her items to make certain nothing else has been compromised. And then you will take her to the Room of Requirement. She will remain there until this threat has passed."

"Actually, professors, I'd prefer to stay in the common room."

The three of them turned to see Astoria still seated across the room, sitting beside the first year's bed.

"It would make more sense to keep me there, to allow the contact person to think that you're not onto their scheming," Astoria said.

"Miss Greengrass, I cannot allow you to put yourself in such danger while you're a student here," Minerva said.

"I am of age, Headmistress," Astoria said. "I'm well versed in protecting myself. And I'll be certain to be much more careful with all of my items from now on."

"Absolutely not," Rebecca said. "I don't care if you are of age, Miss Greengrass. You will not be harmed while I am Head of Slytherin, and I will certainly not allow any of my students to act as someone's pawn in deference to the greater good."

Rebecca frowned and her brows were furrowed. Her nostrils flared as she attempted to maintain control over her anger. Astoria quickly looked away from her.

"It is decided, then," Minerva said. "Professor, please take Miss Greengrass back to her dormitory so she may gather her things."

"Yes, Headmistress," Rebecca said. "Miss Greengrass?"

Astoria stood quickly and followed Rebecca out of the infirmary. Minerva turned to Severus.

"I do hope that for Rebecca's sake we catch this woman. I'm not certain how much longer she will survive, spreading herself so thin to protect so many."

"Professor Felan is resilient, Minerva. She will find a way," said Severus.

"Let us hope you're right, Severus."

* * *

_Severus' Birthday, January 9, 2000_

"How many times do I have to try to tell you / That I'm sorry for the things I've done. / But when I start to try and tell you, / That's when you have to tell me / Hey… this kind of trouble's only just begun. / I tell myself too many times / Why don't you ever learn to keep your big mouth shut? / That's why it hurts so bad to hear the words / That keep on falling from your mouth…. / This is the joy that's seldom spread, / These are the tears / The tears we shed / This is the fear, / This is the dread, / These are the contents of my head. / And these are the years that we have spent / And this is what they represent. / And this is how I feel. / Do you know how I feel? / 'Cause I don't think you know what I feel." – "Why" by Annie Lennox (or performed by Michelle Chamuel)

* * *

Since the Yule Ball, all of the professors had been on alert. Someone had managed to breech the walls of the castle, they had determined. None of the students who had been interviewed had known anything about the poison. Astoria was allowed back into the Slytherin common room by the start of the new year. Severus watched Rebecca Felan worry herself to near insanity throughout the entire process.

While he wished for her to stop, he could certainly understand her feelings behind the situation. People whom she knew well and was close to were being targeted by an unknown assailant, someone who was powerful enough to get into the castle undetected.

Filius and Minerva had worked upon the protection charms for the grounds and castle for two evenings, in four-hour increments. No one except for current students and professors could enter the wards unless Minerva brought them through the wards with her. They also added a specific charm that was programmed to alert the Headmistress should anyone possessing a Dark Mark of any type attempt to enter through the wards. At the staff meeting the morning after the final wards were put into place, Severus felt himself grow rigid at this announcement. Rebecca, he saw, was affected by the news.

"And how are Severus and I supposed to enter or exit the grounds?"

Her voice was extremely tense, and she addressed the table as she spoke.

"Exiting will not be an issue," Minerva said. "But you will need me to escort either of you back through the wards upon your return."

"It is for the best," Rebecca said quickly.

The direction of the meeting had turned rapidly after that, with no one daring to look in either Rebecca or Severus' directions.

Classes had returned with the coming of the new year. Nothing else untoward had occurred since the Yule Ball. Severus had not breached the topic of their conversation on Christmas before all hell broke loose. It was not appropriate, not with how concerned Rebecca was about the attacks. As much as he tried to put it from his own mind, Severus couldn't help but return to that moment where she was so close over and over again. All he'd needed to do was turn his head.

He awoke uncomfortably warm the morning of the fortieth anniversary of his birth. He felt the weight of this knowledge settle upon him in the same instance that he recalled his dream—more of a memory that had turned into a dream. He grumbled as he rose from his bed.

The remainder of the day went by without much affair. Minerva, Filius, and Pomona had wished him a happy birthday at the breakfast table. Rebecca was suspiciously absent, but he did not question it.

His morning classes went by normally. When he made his way back to the Great Hall for lunch, he noticed that there was something in the seat of his chair. His brows furrowed as he slowly pulled the chair out. No other professor had yet arrived at the staff table yet, which made it much more curious.

Severus muttered a few spells to check and make certain the package would not harm him. But it was as innocuous as it appeared. Finally, he took it up and sat down in his seat, looking over the package for any type of markings to see who it could be from. Already, he had an obvious idea.

Quickly, he opened it before anyone else could arrive to see him. Behind the plain wrapping was an equally plain, white box. A note fluttered onto the table in front of him. Severus picked it up and unfolded it along the crease.

_Severus,_

_Think of this as payback for the manner in which you left me my Christmas present. _

_-R.F._

The tiniest of smirks came to Severus' face. He folded the note and placed it within his robes. He took the lid off the box and found within a pristine silk handkerchief, dark green. His initials were embroidered on the bottom right-hand corner, both in silver.

"That is a lovely handkerchief," said Minerva.

Severus looked up quickly, having not heard the Headmistress approach. "It is."

"Who is the sender, if I may ask?"

"You may ask, but it is for now a mystery," Severus replied. He replaced the lid of the box and pocketed the whole thing in his robes.

"I assume the spells you performed upon finding it proved fruitless."

"They did. I will discover the culprit, I'm certain."

Minerva chuckled. "I do hope you thank them instead of hexing them."

Severus chose not to answer the quip. He ate his lunch in relative peace before returning to his classroom, having not seen the illusive Professor Felan.

The afternoon crawled by. Finally, Severus found himself back in the Great Hall for the third time. And once again, she did not come. No one else seemed phased by it—sometimes professors would disappear for meals for a couple of days at a time, depending upon how busy they were with their students.

Severus returned to his quarters after dinner, unable to settle down. He glanced at the clock and found that it was only seven. He sat behind his desk and graded a few of the essays from his first years. They were miserable, as was to be expected, and did not keep his attention for very long. But he forced himself through it. When he set aside the last of them, the clock upon the wall chimed nine. Severus stood and exited his quarters.

He waited for her in the open corridor in the main corridor that led to his classroom and quarters. She came by this way on her rounds—he had accidentally encountered her out here two or three times before.

Many minutes later, he could hear her footsteps from around the corner. He straightened his posture and looked toward her. As she rounded the corner, he could see her perfect neutrality drop momentarily as she began to raise her hand slightly, as if it was a reflex. But she paused just as quickly and moved to stow her wand inside her robes.

She closed the distance between them until they were a few feet apart—comfortable speaking distance.

"I received your gift," said Severus. "I would have told you that I appreciated the sentiment behind its presentation, but you have been absent."

"I had two classes worth of O.W.L.-level potions to grade," she said. "I took my meals in my office between classes."

"Then allow me to congratulate you on catching me off guard."

She smiled. "I do hope you'll use it. I'm afraid your other one was a bit worn by the time I returned it."

A small crease appeared between Severus' brows at the mention of his other handkerchief, the one he had given to her during the night of her attack. The one she had returned to him just this past summer. Had it truly been so many months?

He gave a curt nod. "It shall match my exorbitant dress robes quite well."

Rebecca laughed. "I suppose it will."

She paused and looked him over, her eyes quickly scanning down and then back up in an assessing manner.

"I must return to my rounds. Excuse me."

She walked toward him, and he fell into step beside her.

"I will accompany you if you do not mind."

"Afraid I don't know how to perform rounds any longer, Severus?"

"In these times, professor, we cannot be too careful."

In truth, he wished to be around her without pushing any of their complications. He wouldn't even know where to begin, or even what he truly wanted from her. Company. The return of the ease of their conversation. And, most importantly, he wanted this anger to go away from both sides.

There was a drawn-out silence as they wandered the corridors, looking carefully for students out of bed.

"I hope that you've had a good birthday," she said suddenly.

"I am more pleased by the fact that it is drawing to its close."

"Don't tell me you're still regretting being alive," she said before poking her head inside an alcove.

"I am not," he said, watching her. He waited until she turned to face him, and she found him much closer than she anticipated. "But I do not retain many happy memories on my birthday. Thus, when the day passes quickly, it is a good one."

"I'm sorry I asked…"

Rebecca turned and walked toward the other end of the corridor. Near the library, where they currently were, was a popular meeting spot for many students because of the amount of hiding places and small, empty rooms. Severus hoped they would not run into any students. Returning to the former ease around one another was going to prove extremely difficult, and Severus knew that any interruptions would not help. However, he also knew not much would get resolved in this one encounter.

His footsteps followed hers as they made their way quietly through the castle. Eventually, Severus found himself taking the steps up the Astronomy Tower behind her. When he emerged, Severus saw that she had positioned herself against the edge, leaning forward against the stone wall as she looked out over the grounds. The crisp wind hit him as soon as he stepped out of the staircase, pushing his hair back from his face. Momentarily, his eyes closed as he took in the night air.

When he opened his eyes, Rebecca had turned to face him. But her eyes looked past him, to the spot just to his left—the part of the wall Albus had used to hold himself up in his final moments.

"I don't know why we even bother looking up here," she said, arms crossed. "Students don't enjoy coming up here for Astronomy anymore."

She met his eyes, and Severus discovered that he had no answer. Rebecca turned to look back over the grounds, and he walked forward. He focused on her right hand, placed far enough away from her body upon the wall of the tower that he could easily place his over top of it. Instead, he came to stand next to her, hands behind his back, and looked over the area before them.

The wind whipped harder against them. Rebecca pulled her robes more tightly about her. Severus allowed the wind to force his robes to billow. The chill didn't bother him so much, though perhaps his left leg ached slightly more than if he had been warm.

"Why are you here, Severus?"

He turned his head to see she was already looking at him. For how long before he'd been under her gaze, Severus wasn't certain.

He thought of all the possible answers he could give to her, but none of them seemed right. None of them would he allow to pass his lips, not when things were still so uncertain.

"Because I wished to have an encounter with someone today who did not require something of me," he said.

Rebecca nodded, then turned to look back over the grounds. "Fair enough."

The chimney on Hagrid's hut had smoke streaming out of it. There was a pale light from the window. It was rather late, and more than likely, most of the castle's inhabitants would be asleep. Students were less likely to sneak about on cold nights such as this, but there was still half an hour yet before Rebecca had to meet her replacement for rounds, Sprout, at the Entrance Hall.

She knew that he watched her from behind his hair until the wind made it impossible for him to hide what he was doing. He was just as lonely as she was, but even more stubborn in admitting it. But there was nothing to their relationship—if one could even call it that. He was right: she didn't expect anything from him, and perhaps that was exactly what he wanted.

"What were you doing this time last year, Professor Felan?"

"Trying not to remember that today was your birthday," she replied. She glanced at him. "And you?"

"The same, though failing quite miserably as Minerva insisted upon having a cake for me at the staff table at lunch."

Rebecca couldn't hide her smile. "I see she didn't repeat the venture."

"She fortunately learned her lesson."

"I'm glad I didn't suffer the same fate by giving you a present," Rebecca said.

"It was not something for all to see, so I will allow you to go unpunished this time."

"Now I have something to strive for next year." She chuckled.

"Have we not frightened you into another career choice yet?"

"I'm still here, so I think I'll make it."

Severus let the silence fall between them once more. The wind picked up, and he noticed Rebecca pull her cloak around her once more and shiver slightly.

"We should return to your rounds," he said.

He turned and made his way toward the staircase door. Rebecca nodded and followed, knowing that her time on her rounds was growing shorter. Severus held the door open for her, and Rebecca entered the staircase. He followed behind her, shutting the door. This staircase was only lit on nights when students would be going to Astronomy, which was not one of those nights.

"_Lumos_," Rebecca said as she retrieved her wand from inside her robes.

The small area around them lit dimly. The first thing Rebecca could see was Severus still standing in front of the door leading onto the balcony, and that he was watching her intently.

"Do you understand that I have regrets, Professor Felan?"

She didn't respond immediately. His face held a tiredness to it that she had not seen just moments before.

"I know," she replied.

"Then you understand how I feel."

"I can't begin to imagine," Rebecca said, shaking her head. "All I know is that there are still many other troubles that are much bigger than us."

Severus gave her a long look before nodding. "Let us hope that they are resolved quickly so that our own troubles can come to a conclusion." He stepped around her. "Good evening, Professor Felan."

She turned as he walked past her, casting her light upon him as he began to walk away.

"You don't know what I feel," she said quietly.

Severus stopped three steps down the stairs from her. He turned and let his gaze fall upon her face, which showed her watching him neutrally. It had been a matter-of-fact statement, one not meant to criticize. He suddenly better understood her response to him. Instead of speaking, he simply lowered his head in a silent nod, then turned around. Severus continued down the stairs and out of her sight. Only then did Rebecca start to make her way down the stairs and toward the Entrance Hall.

* * *

_The Final Task, February 9, 2000_

The event had been interesting to watch. As Rebecca had assumed, the remaining teams had chosen their Hufflepuff counterparts to argue on behalf of their respective group. They had even argued for why the other groups should win over their own, which was met with initial confusion by the other group members. But after the Hufflepuff from Group One went and took his seat beside Astoria once more, the Slytherin patted him on the shoulder. Rebecca smiled as the judges gave very high scores. The remaining two groups followed suit.

Astoria's group was declared the winner by a matter of points, and the celebration that occurred during lunch in the Great Hall was enough to warm Rebecca's heart. As she saw at the staff table, everyone looked pleased with the results. The hall was in an uproar—a happy one. There were no House tables. Everyone sat in different places around the hall, as they'd begun doing slowly since the start of the competition. It was a lovely thing to watch.

Each member of the winning group had earned their House 100 points each, with the two runner-up teams earning 75 and 50 points for their Houses. Slytherin was now in second place over the Ravenclaws by this point, having won both of their Quidditch matches thus far, and Rebecca felt better about her House's situation. If they won their final Quidditch match, the Quidditch Cup would be theirs and, hopefully along with it, the House Cup, overtaking Gryffindor for the first time since she'd been at Hogwarts.

But for now she couldn't worry about that. It was a Saturday, and her students would have much to celebrate. She was to meet George at his shop that afternoon and have a look around at his new items before heading over to the Burrow for dinner with the whole family. She stopped by the common room to warn her students to not cause a disturbance, as they'd have to deal with Professor Snape before she returned that evening.

"Please know that I'm proud of all of you," she said to them. "All of your hard work will win us the House Cup competition this term. Keep up the good work."

She left to a cheer following her out into the corridor of the dungeons. She chuckled as she put on her cloak, preparing herself to head out onto the grounds and Apparate to Diagon Alley. When she arrived at George's shop, it was well after dark and closing time, so Rebecca found it unusual that the door was unlocked.

As she entered the shop, she noticed that something was immediately wrong. There was overturned stock, joke items scattered everywhere, and noise coming from upstairs. Rebecca drew her wand and ran up the stairs two at a time. She reached the landing to the second floor, where George's flat rested over his shop. The door was off its hinges, so Rebecca stepped through, Shield Charm up around her.

Two figures—George backed into the corner and a hooded person dueling him—were in the room. George glanced Rebecca's way as she entered the small living room, and the second person turned toward her and shot a hex in her direction before turning back to George. Rebecca dodged the hex easily and shot a Body Bind in the stranger's direction wordlessly.

But the stranger had moved even as Rebecca had. Rebecca's brows furrowed as she attempted to get closer to the stranger.

She raised her wand once more, but the stranger ran for the window, thrusting her wand at it.

"_Stupefy_!"

The voice was feminine, high-pitched, and extremely familiar.

"Pansy!" Rebecca shouted, swiping her wand in front of her as she thought the spell to bring the girl down. She ran toward the window after her former classmate.

The girl did not turn, but flung her wand arm out behind her as she cried, "_Protego_!"

Her Shield Charm was strong enough to send Rebecca's spell safely away. Pansy leapt through the window, and Rebecca got there a few moments later. It was just in time to see Pansy land easily upon the ground with the help of a spell. She Apparated on the spot, something she could not have done in George's flat.

Rebecca turned to see George supporting himself in the corner of his living room, clearly out of breath. There was nothing she could do about Pansy at the moment, so she went quickly over to her friend.

"George, are you all right?"

She cupped his face in her hand and lifted his head to find that his cheek was slashed. Though the blood was minor, it ran down his cheek.

"I'll be all right," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder to support him enough to stand. "Just help me up."

"I'm either going to end up dragging you or levitating you," Rebecca said.

"C'mon…"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "You don't have time to argue."

Without another moment, she flicked her wand at George and had him levitating.

The trek out of the room, down the stairs, and through the shop was fast enough. Once outside, Rebecca warded his store with a few flourishes of her wand at George's behest. Then, they Apparated. They were just outside of St. Mungo's and used the back entrance, stepping through the window of what appeared to be a run-down building. George floated in after Rebecca.

As soon as they were inside, they were instantly under the attention of a couple of Healers, both female, passing by.

"You're— "

"In need of some help," Rebecca said shortly, disabling the levitation charm. George sank to the ground and she wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him up. "He's been attacked—I don't know what spells were used on him, but he's lethargic and is bleeding, but still stubborn as all hell."

George smirked as one Healer reached to help him as another flagged down a magically levitating gurney.

"Gave her a run, though," he said.

Rebecca nodded as she rushed to keep pace with the Healers. Into the elevator they went.

"What happened?" one of the Healers asked. The other one was beginning to take George's vitals. Green numbers and moving charts began to float in the air above his head.

"He was attacked by a hostile witch posing as a Death Eater," Rebecca said. "I came in because I was supposed to meet George before we headed to his parents' for dinner. I saw his attacker, and we exchanged spells, but she escaped."

The Healer nodded. "Mr. Weasley, do you know what she cast at you?"

"Couple of hexes, some curses," he said. "Nothing serious. One cut me up a bit." He motioned to his cheek before allowing his hand to flop back onto the gurney.

The elevator opened and everyone exited. One of the Healers turned to Rebecca as the other kept going with George.

"Miss Felan, you're going to need to stay out here while we work on him."

"If you think I'm leaving him alone, you obviously don't know me very well," Rebecca growled.

She pushed past the Healer and trotted to keep up with the gurney that held George. The second Healer caught up to her as they were entering a room just off the main hallway. Rebecca stood in the corner and watched as the Healers transferred George onto the bed and sent the levitating gurney on its way.

"He's got internal injuries," said the Healer beside George as she read the floating charts and numbers in the air. "They seem significant."

"Let's get to work."

Rebecca frowned. "George, did she cast anything at you that was purple?"

The Healers were about to snap at her, but George managed to nod. "Yeah. S'why I couldn't stand up right. Caught her off guard with another spell, though. She couldn't get the whole spell off."

Rebecca took out her wand.

"Miss Felan, you can't—"

"That's _Professor_ Felan to you, Healer, and I'm calling Madame Pomfrey from Hogwarts. She's dealt with this before."

She cast her Patronus and sent it off to Poppy. Then she cast a second Patronus and sent it to Molly and Arthur. She spoke to both Patronuses slowly and carefully as the Healers did their best to work on George.

"I've never seen anything like this before," said the first Healer.

"The best we're going to be able to do is keep giving him Blood Replenishing Potions for now," replied the second.

"Mr. Weasley, we're going to need you to stay awake."

George's eyes shot back open. "Sorry. Hard to breathe."

"Hang in there, George," Rebecca said from across the room.

She waited and watched as the Healers worked on him. It was only five minutes before Molly and Arthur showed up. Rebecca intercepted them at the door and hurriedly explained what had happened. The Healers managed to get them to wait outside of the room as they continued to work with George.

"What would've happened if you hadn't scheduled to meet with him, Becca?"

"Hush, Molly," Arthur said, hugging his wife to him. "He's going to be fine."

"Did you tell Harry and the others?" Rebecca asked.

"Not yet," Arthur said as Molly turned her face into his chest.

Rebecca nodded. "I'll be right back."

She turned and walked down the hallway until she found the lavatory. She made sure no one else was inside before locking it and casting a third Patronus, this one to Harry.

"Harry, the one hunting everyone down is Pansy Parkinson. She attacked George just as I was showing up at his shop before dinner. He's going to be fine. I didn't see her face, but I know that voice anywhere. Find her before she hurts anyone else. I don't care what we have to do to flush her out."

The wolf curled in upon itself and was off in a flash. Rebecca unlocked the lavatory and returned to standing beside the Weasleys in front of George's room. Moments later, Poppy showed up, carrying a satchel with her.

"Thank you for calling me, Rebecca," the Mediwitch said. "This is a complex curse."

She was in the room without another word, and the Healers made way for her. Molly and Arthur were visibly comforted by the sight of Poppy.

George was soon sitting up and taking the potions Poppy had brought with her. He was breathing on his own, though he seemed to wince if his breaths were too deep.

There was the sound of two people running, and Rebecca looked down the hallway to see Harry and Ginny coming toward them. Ginny immediately went to her parents, who embraced her at the same time and hugged her tightly between them.

"He's fine, darling," Molly said as she stroked Ginny's hair back.

"Becca," Harry said, stopping just before her, "thanks for the Patronus. I've got the Aurors out looking for her. Kingsley's going to make an announcement in a few minutes that harboring Pansy will be considered a crime and that she needs to be turned in. They're getting up the wanted signs now."

Rebecca nodded curtly. "Good."

"Who's doing this to us?" Molly asked.

"Pansy Parkinson," Rebecca said, her frown deep. "She was in our year, in my House."

"What's Madame Pomfrey doing here?" asked Ginny, now standing between her parents and Harry.

"Pansy cast the same curse on George that Dolohov cast on Hermione in the Department of Mysteries," Rebecca said.

Harry and Ginny both stared at her a moment, their eyes wide.

"He said she didn't get the full incantation off," Rebecca said. "It won't be lethal."

"Have there been any other attacks at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Not since Minerva implemented her new plan. No one with a Dark Mark of any kind can get in or out of the grounds without first conferring with her. I had to check out with her and give her my exact time of departure so I could leave. There's no way Pansy can get in."

"Good," said Harry.

A Healer came to the door. "Madame Pomfrey says you can all come in now."

Molly, Arthur, and Ginny rushed forward, but Rebecca put a hand on Harry's wrist and kept him back. He nodded and stood beside her. They watched the tearful embrace of George by his parents and sister. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

"I want her dealt with," Rebecca said quietly.

"Becca, don't do anything stupid."

"I was so close. She got away from me. I don't remember her being that great at dueling."

"She's a pureblood. She could've learned it from anyone in her family. If she knew Dolohov's curse…"

"I know," Rebecca said. "But she was just right there, Harry. I could've ended this."

Harry turned and brought Rebecca into a hug. "You can't always beat yourself up over this stuff. You can't always be the hero."

She gave a bark of laughter as she hugged him in return. "I seem to remember saying that to you a few times."

"Well I seem to have taken it to heart," he said, pulling from the hug. "Seriously, though. We'll get her."

"I hope you do. I can't take any more of these attacks."

"I don't think any of us can."

They both turned and watched the scene unfold in the room. Madame Pomfrey seemed to be instructing George on the proper care of himself. Molly was suddenly talking, probably insisting George come to stay with them at the Burrow until he got better. George looked like he was going to oppose the treatment, but his father spoke up an insisted. George relented.

His head turned toward them and smiled. Madame Pomfrey was gathering her supplies, leaving the appropriate items with George.

"I think we're being summoned," Harry said.

She and Harry entered the room just as Madame Pomfrey was leaving. Rebecca thanked her for coming. Poppy nodded.

"Thank you for calling me. I'm not sure they would have been able to help him as quickly," she said. "I'll see you back at the castle, Rebecca. I'll let the Headmistress know what's occurred tonight."

Rebecca nodded. "I'll be back within the hour, I'm sure."

"How's my shop, little brother?" George asked, eyes upon Harry.

"I sent some Aurors round to it. They'll be investigating for a bit, but they'll let me know when it's safe to go back in."

"The living room needed cleaning anyway," George said. His eyes landed upon Rebecca. "Seems you had to save my sorry arse. My apologies."

"You know I'd save your sorry arse any time," Rebecca said with a smile.

George chuckled. "Thanks, Becca."

"You're welcome."

"They're going to keep me here overnight and then it seems I'm going home with Mum and Dad tomorrow," George said. "Madame Pomfrey says I'll make a full recovery, but it'll be a while before I get my strength back."

"The important thing is that she was able to heal you," Molly said, her hand upon her son's shoulder. "And Harry and the other Aurors are going to capture the girl who did this to you."

George nodded.

"We're going to stay here with him tonight," Arthur said. "We'll reschedule the dinner for when he gets better."

Harry nodded. "I already let everyone else know about what's going on. I told them I'd send an update as soon as we got home, but I'm sure there will be some visitors later tonight, too."

"Thank you, Harry, dear," Molly said.

"It's no trouble," Harry replied, taking Ginny's hand. "We'll be on our way. Feel better, George."

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry and Ginny gave Molly, Arthur, and Rebecca a hug each before leaving. Ginny's hug with Rebecca lingered longer than she normally would have. Rebecca smiled as her friends left.

"I should head back, too," she said. "Let me know if you need anything, all of you."

"We will. Thank you, Becca," said Arthur with a smile.

She exchanged her share of hugs, even leaning in to give one to George, who was able to give a very weak one in return. Rebecca managed to keep her mind focused enough to get out of St. Mungo's. She even managed to send Minerva another Patronus to allow her to Floo directly back to Hogwarts via the Headmistress' office.

She stepped through the fireplace to find Minerva waiting for her in front of it.

"Poppy has already explained what occurred."

"I'm thankful she was able to get there so quickly."

Minerva nodded, then looked upon Rebecca quietly. The fire behind them crackled.

"Rebecca, I need you to assure me that you won't go after Miss Parkinson by yourself."

"I promise you, Minerva. I have a duty to the school and the students first."

"Very good," the Headmistress said, looking relieved. "Go and get some rest."

Rebecca nodded and exited the office. Once out in the corridor, she could feel her resolve starting to crumble. She began to walk toward the staircase, keeping her face straight and her walk even.

But as she reached the stairs, Rebecca could feel her thoughts tearing at her conscience. Certainly this wasn't her fault, she knew, but there was nothing she could do to protect anyone outside of this school. Absolutely nothing. Never before had she felt so helpless.

She made it to the banister and leaned against it, covering her face with her hands as she tried to sort everything out.

How had she not seen this before? It all made so much sense. It had to have been Pansy from the start. She attacked Fleur because she was supposed to be the one who married Severus, the one to have pureblood children. She was going to be the one who brought the next generation of Death Eaters into the world. Fleur and her child represented everything she didn't have. Astoria was now Draco's girlfriend, something she had been during school. She would have felt that Astoria had stolen Draco from her, even if they hadn't been meant for one another. And now Fred…

Rebecca wracked her memory. When Fred and George had left before they graduated, they'd done so in such a fashion that they cast curses on the Inquisitorial Squad, one of whom was Pansy. She'd been unable to attend classes for a few days because her face was disfigured. Even that slight had been enough to provoke her. Who would be next?

"Professor Felan."

Rebecca jumped as she looked up at Severus. He stood just before her, a hand on the banister, effectively blocking her into the corner she'd placed herself in to think. He held up his free hand as a signal for her to calm down. She took in a deep breath and let it out.

"You look unwell," he said.

"She attacked again," Rebecca said. "George."

"You know who she is," Severus replied.

"Pansy Parkinson."

Severus nodded. "She is vindictive enough for this sort of petty nonsense. I did not believe she had the aptitude."

"She used Dolohov's curse on George tonight."

"Someone has been training her," Severus said.

"Could that mean there are others?"

"Possibly. Her family is in Azkaban for being _his_ followers, but she would not have been incarcerated because she was underage and did not bear the Mark."

"But who else is left to help her?" Rebecca asked.

Severus paused, glancing at the floor before looking back up at her.

"I am assuming that Potter knows of tonight's occurrence."

"Yes. The Aurors and Kingsley know of Pansy's involvement in all of this."

"Then it is out of our hands."

"I can't just drop it so simply, Severus. These are my friends she's attacking. My student. How can I just sit idly by?"

"Because you are doing yourself no favours by worrying so unnecessarily," Severus said.

Rebecca looked down at her feet, feeling ashamed and so torn all at once. Severus was right, of course, but she didn't know how else to feel about the situation.

She felt his hand upon her cheek, raising her face to look up at him. Neither of them spoke. He was even closer than he'd been before, having taken a step forward to be able to place his hand so easily on her cheek.

His hand slid backward to cup the back of her head, fingers trailing through her red locks. Rebecca tipped her head forward just slightly, allowing him to do what he pleased. The touch was comforting.

With a bit of pressure, he was able to gently encourage her toward him. Her arms extended, and she embraced him, laying her head against his chest, becoming surrounded once again by his scent. His hand rested against the back of her head, fingers still entangled in her hair. He raised his left arm to wrap around her waist, holding her in place momentarily.

"You think too much of others and not of yourself," Severus said quietly. "A fault that I, too, suffered from. The difference is you care for many whereas I cared only for one."

He released her from his grasp and held her at arm's length, forcing her to look up at him. "Do not allow yourself to become what I have."

Rebecca's word stuck in her throat, so she could only look at him. Severus nodded, then dropped his arms to his sides.

"Are you able to return to your quarters?"

"Yes. Thank you."

He gave a second, curt nod. "Good evening, Rebecca."

Severus turned on his heel and walked away, his robes billowing out behind him. Rebecca watched him, uncertain what had just occurred between the two of them. She could still feel his warmth surrounding her. She missed it immediately.

* * *

_Valentine's Day, February 14, 2000_

"Please forgive me—I know not what I do. / Please forgive me—I can't stop loving you. / Don't deny me, this pain I'm going through. / Please forgive me if I need you like I do. / Please believe me, every word I say is true. / Please forgive me. I can't stop loving you." – "Please Forgive Me" by Bryan Adams

* * *

Insufferable. That was what Severus thought of the "holiday." Merlin knew whose idea it was to decorate the corridors, but upon coming to breakfast, he discovered that it was Flitwick. Severus nearly rolled his eyes at the man, but barely refrained. The students seemed to be enjoying the day so far, all of them on the end of the Interhouse Competition still. The Great Hall was full of red and pink balloons, stuffed bears, and cards, most all of the objects oversized and obnoxious. The professors all seemed in a jovial mood except him.

That is, he was the only one who seemed to hate today before it had even started until Rebecca made her way to her seat at the staff table. As she entered the hall, he saw her open contempt for the colors, decorations, and the loving couples everywhere. By the time she sat down two seats from him, he could tell she was fuming.

"Are you feeling all right this morning, Rebecca?" Minerva asked.

"You're not going to allow this to be appropriate activity for inside the classroom, are you, Minerva?" Rebecca asked, as if she hadn't heard the question directed to her. She took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"I hadn't—"

"All of this nonsense is a hazard in my classroom," Rebecca continued. "I need to know that I have your support to disallow it from my classroom, and that the other professors can feel comfortable in banning it from their classrooms so the students aren't distracted."

"I understand how it can be a problem for Potions," Minerva said with a small nod. "Do feel free to have students leave it outside your classroom."

"Thank you."

She turned to her breakfast, then, and didn't speak any more. Interesting. Severus could only imagine what had sparked her own contempt for the holiday they both seemed to hate. And then a thought flooded his mind, and he suddenly frowned. What if he was the cause of this hatred? No. If that was the case, she wouldn't be showing such open contempt. There had to be another reason. He would discover this reason.

When he got to his classroom, he discovered a letter upon the ground just inside the doorway. He knelt to pick it up and moved toward the board as he read the front.

_To S.S._

He felt the magical pulse on the seal, and as soon as he moved to break it, the seal's magic dissipated. An interesting little charm. He had his back against the board as he began to read the letter.

_Thank you for your kind words of encouragement after George's attack. I've taken your advice to heart and have done my best not to worry over circumstances that I can't control. It's been difficult, but I feel better. Somewhat. Be glad you've finally found something I'm not good at._

_Best,_

_R.F._

_P.S.- I've __always__ hated this holiday._

Gods, how did she always know? It was as if she was always one or more steps ahead of him, something that he wasn't used to.

She had been abnormally quiet over the last few days, always looking pensive whenever he saw her out in public. He imagined she was much the same in the classroom. But he'd heard nothing untoward from the Slytherins, or any other students for that matter. So he hadn't approached her.

But why would she choose now to give him this note? It seemed she saw this holiday as any other day, just as he attempted to view it. The aside at the end was definitely supposed to be pointed toward that means, but also as a way of explanation.

She would also know that he wouldn't let this lie unanswered.

Severus looked to the parchment in his hands once more.

She wanted him to come and speak with her.

The first students began filing inside the classroom, and Severus quietly folded the note up and fit it inside his robes. He would seek her out later.

It wasn't until after dinner that he had the opportunity to follow her discreetly out of the Great Hall. Once they were in the Entrance Hall did he call to her. She turned, having anticipated him.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked.

"Certainly," he answered.

She waited for him before starting to walk toward the staircase leading to the dungeons once more. Side-by-side, they made the trek, neither feeling the need to speak until she had unwarded the door to her quarters and they were behind the closed door. Severus waited as Rebecca put up her wards once more.

"If you want to have a seat," she said, vaguely motioning at the sitting area. He knew it well—it was only two years ago that these quarters were still his, and just this past summer so much had occurred within their walls.

She disappeared into the next room, and Severus wandered about the room, taking in the changes she had made. They were all very subtle. The room seemed brighter, and had more autumn colours than before, when he'd kept it a neutral grey and black. Idly, he wondered how she had changed the bedroom.

He shook his head and took a seat on the sofa. The bookshelves across the opposite wall at least were no longer overflowing, as the ones in her apprentice quarters had been. He was about to go over and peruse them more thoroughly when she returned from the other room, carrying a tea set on a tray.

She set it upon the table and took a seat upon the chair beside the sofa. There would be enough space between them to feel comfortable, but not so much that it would make any conversation between them uncomfortable. She poured his cup of tea before taking a seat.

"I must congratulate you on Slytherin's climb to the top," he said.

"Thank you," Rebecca said, picking up the saucer with the teacup on it and handing it to him. "We just have the last Quidditch match to get through and things should be in our favour."

"Gryffindor." Severus brought the tea to his lips and took a sip as Rebecca prepared tea for herself. "I cannot say that it will be easy. I didn't believe you'd make it quite so far."

"When will you learn to never underestimate me, Severus?" she asked with a smirk.

"The student becomes the professor," he purred. "An interesting turn of events."

Rebecca glanced away as she set her tea down upon the table. "I suppose you got my note."

He gave a nod. "I found myself curious at the post script."

"I knew that you would."

He met her eyes.

"And I knew that you'd figure out that I knew you'd be interested. Playing mind games is only as fun as the person you're playing them with is intelligent."

"I find myself surprised that you have taken my advice at all," Severus said.

Rebecca shrugged. "I've tried every other tactic. Despite the length of time without hearing anything about her, Harry assures me the Aurors will find Pansy. There is nothing I can do. I'm in charge of many Slytherins who would be disappointed that their Head of House had injured herself to the point of being unable to celebrate their first House Cup win in eight years."

Severus brought the teacup to his lips once more and sipped. "Minerva and Albus both were amused by my own self-assurance at rewarding my first year of teaching with my House winning the House Cup. I seem to have done you the same disservice that they did to me."

"History has a certain way of repeating itself, even when we don't want it to," Rebecca said.

Quietly, she drank her tea. The warmth it offered was welcome. She set the cup down and waved her wand arm toward the hearth. Fire erupted to life and began crackling against the logs set in place. When she turned back, Severus was leaning forward, scrutinizing her.

"Why would you believe I would be happy to find something that you lack talent in?"

"Because you called me an insufferable know-it-all my share of times, too," she replied, taking up her tea once more. "I figured that any lack in my knowledge would be amusing to you."

"I am not well-versed in the way of social graces, but I do believe that colleagues have a tendency to support one another rather than produce disparaging comments."

Rebecca gave a tiny smile at him over her teacup. "That's probably one of the nicer things you've said to me all term."

"The last person to refer to me as 'nice' is dead, if you'll remember," Severus said, then took a sip of his tea.

"I detect a threat. How very unprofessional of you, Deputy Headmaster."

Severus could feel his mind pulling itself from its stupor, attempting to pump the necessary phrases from his synapses to his mouth.

"Merely a statement of fact, Professor Felan," he said. "It would, for example, be extremely unprofessional should I mention that I have allowed myself to play into your little game in order to spend time with you alone."

She didn't miss a beat. Falling into their former routine was as easy as he recalled it to his mind.

"No one of your stature would have an untoward reason to visit with me alone, certainly."

She reached the few inches toward him to pluck up his empty cup and set it and the saucer upon the tray, then did the same with her own cup.

"My ulterior motive, I'm afraid, is to know the true reason that you detest the holiday we find ourselves attempting to overlook," Severus said.

"How very brusque of you, Severus," Rebecca said, leaning over so she could pick up the tray. "You'll have to do better than that."

She stood and left the room once more, presumably taking the items to the small kitchenette the suite allotted her. Severus stood and waited by the doorway for her. He was rewarded with her swift return.

He stepped toward Rebecca, catching her off guard. They were in a position similar to just a few nights ago: her back against the wall and he standing just a foot in front of her. Severus bent his head forward.

"I understand, Rebecca, that I cannot garner your forgiveness in our deeply personal matter," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "However, you simply cannot deny me my own personal curiosities concerning a subject I feel so connected to."

Rebecca's hands rested against the wall, behind her back, ready to help her spring forward should she need to. But he did not move after he spoke, simply looking at her, as if daring her to contradict him.

She let one hand slowly rise toward her face and pushed her hair from her face. Rebecca stepped forward, brushing past him on her way back to the chair. Severus she heard follow her. He took his seat just after her.

Rebecca let one of her legs stretch out in front of her as she brought up her left foot to rest on the seat of the chair. She clutched her shin with her hands, then looked up at Severus once more.

"In primary school, there was a boy. I don't remember his name."

"Everyone remembers their tormentor's name," Severus said, his tone deep.

Rebecca was quiet, looking at the top of her knee, still covered by the black leggings she chose to support under her long, black skirt.

"Thomas Unger," she said. "I fancied myself in love with him. Eight-year-olds." She rolled her eyes. "We know so very little of the world."

Severus tilted his head forward slightly.

"Valentine's Day was just starting to _mean_ something to all of us, so naturally it was a big deal if you didn't have a Valentine," Rebecca said. "As hard as it is to imagine, I wasn't an extremely popular child even before Hogwarts. Most of my peers didn't understand me."

She shifted so that she put her foot upon the ground, forcing her to lean forward just slightly.

"Anyway, the day before Valentine's Day, Thomas told me to meet him in front of the school," she said. "He wanted the whole school to know I was his Valentine." A slow smile crept across her face. "You can imagine what happened next."

Severus blinked slowly. Indeed he could. This was sounding extremely familiar.

"Thomas was at the front of the school the next morning, holding a teddy bear. When I walked up to him, two of his friends appeared and doused me in silly string—the off-brand kind, of course—and it stuck all over me. My hair, my eyes, on my clothes. It stained my clothes and my father yelled at me when I got home. Mum was mad because she had to spend the majority of the evening trying to get the stuff out of my hair and then take me to the doctor the next day to make sure my eyes would be all right."

Severus considered her for a moment. "How many saw?"

"Most of the school." Rebecca fidgeting in her chair again. "I just can't seem to muster up the willpower to like Valentine's Day after that. I even told my friends to never get me anything on the day. I think it's horrid."

Severus was very quiet. He sat up very straight and took in a deep breath through his large nose.

"My sixth year, on Valentine's Day, I held out some semblance of hope that I could get back into my former friend's good graces."

Rebecca sat very still suddenly, her eyes widening as he spoke. This was not what she was expecting. She had simply wanted him to understand that her hatred of Valentine's Day had long been established before she had even met him, but it seemed she was going to get more than she bargained for with this conversation.

"I had written a letter. I spent the entire night before on it, making certain to have crafted every sentence perfectly. It was… more of a poem, or so I attempted it to be and most likely failed at. I had even gone to the trouble of getting her favorite flower—her namesake. I had a red and white lily in one hand and the letter in the other when I approached her in the Entrance Hall."

Rebecca bit the inside of her lip, keeping herself silent. His lids raised from half-mast, and his black eyes stared at her.

"Before I could was even ten paces away, James Potter intercepted her. She hadn't even seen me. In front of everyone, he leaned her over his arm and snogged her right there, in the middle of the Entrance Hall. She didn't push him away."

Rebecca couldn't break his tense gaze. He didn't even blink.

"The letter was aflame before I knew what was happening. I turned around and dropped the flowers on the ground and retreated to my dormitory. Later that day, in the Great Hall, I saw her holding those flowers, presented them about as though Potter had won her some sort of bloody trophy."

He sneered, but the expression was gone within a moment. His lips pursed as his eyes sought to look anywhere except for at her face. Rebecca remained silent. Finally, Severus looked her way once more.

"I think this calls for Firewhiskey," she said as she stood.

She returned with the bottle and two shot glasses. All containers were upon the table, and the shots she soon poured. Severus picked up his own as she did the same. Rebecca moved her full shot glass toward his, and the tiny tapping sound rang out in the quiet room.

"To the realists of the world," Rebecca said.

Severus gave a curt nod, then drank what had been given to him. Rebecca did the same, and the liquid burned a trail from her mouth to her throat to her stomach. She made a face as she set the glass back upon the table. Severus' already sat upon the table by the time she looked back toward him.

"You appreciate the difficulty of the situation I find myself in," he said quietly, staring down at his hands. "I, too, understand, as you now know, your situation much better than you may have anticipated."

Rebecca couldn't speak and wouldn't interrupt him. She did know how difficult all of this was for both of them.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Severus said with a sigh. He paused, then looked at her once more. "I must know if there is a possibility of your feelings upon the matter changing."

Rebecca felt as though her throat would close up should she try to speak. But she had to.

"I don't know."

"Forgive me," Severus said, quickly standing. "I have overstayed my welcome."

Rebecca was just behind him, and caught up before he could make his way through the door. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"Severus."

He turned to face her, his face once more a mask. She let her hand drop back to her side.

"I cannot force a decision upon you, I realize," he said. "But know that I am not the same man to pine for twenty years."

"I know," Rebecca whispered.

Suddenly, he took a step forward, invading her personal space. His forehead pressed against hers, with his eyes closed and no other part of his body touching her in any way. Rebecca tried to open her mouth to speak, but clenched her jaw and closed her eyes instead.

"Do not deny me," he said evenly, the silent plea obvious in his tone.

Just as quickly, he had turned from her. With a wave of his wand, her wards dismantled. She was standing by herself just inside her quarters, the door shutting of its own accord behind him, creaking loudly as it did so.

Rebecca shut the door and leaned against it, muttering the wards under her breath as she sank to the floor, arms wrapped about her torso. She let her head hit the door, and she closed her eyes as she let out the breath she'd been holding.


	22. A New Year of Changes, March to late May

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except Rebecca, and don't plan on making any money off of this.

**Author's Note: **This is what you've all been waiting for. I think I may have gotten carried away with the lemon, buuuuuut I think they deserve it after all they've been put through.

I'd really like to thank all of you who have read with me until this point, and I'd like to say that this is not the end. I've still got some more ideas rolling around in my head for this story, so expect some more updates. No more this month- I'm not that good- but there will hopefully be another chapter added before the new year.

Thanks for your continued readership and comments. All of you are very appreciated. Without further ado, please enjoy.

* * *

_Rebecca's Birthday, March 20, 2000_

"Funny how the heart can be deceiving / More than just a couple times. / Why do we fall in love so easy / Even when it's not right? / Where there is desire, / There is gonna be a flame. / Where there is a flame, / Someone's bound to get burned. / But just because it burns / Doesn't mean you're gonna die. / You've gotta get up and try, try, try. / Gotta get up and try, try, try. / You've gotta get up and try, try, try." – "Try" by P!nk

* * *

Rebecca's birthday saw her at two different parties. The Hogwarts professors had been kind to her in wishing her a happy birthday that morning at breakfast, and then it was off to visit with her parents and brother. Her father remained in the room long enough to give her a present, and then he was off to his office for an emergency meeting. After he left, her mother gave Rebecca an apologetic look. Rebecca was honestly surprised that he'd been civil towards her at all.

She spent most of the morning at her family home, bringing her mum and brother up to speed on her progress at Hogwarts and with her students. She had to be at Malfoy Manor by 1 p.m. for a lunch celebration, so she took the gifts her family had gotten her as she left, promising to visit again soon.

"Before I leave, Mum, I have to tell you to be careful," Rebecca said as she and her mother stood before the front door.

"What's the matter, Becca?"

"There's a woman. She's hurting people who she feels slighted her during the war."

Her mother gave a brief nod. That had been a very uncomfortable conversation, explaining everything that had happened in the wizarding world to her mother. But Rose had picked up on everything very quickly and rarely forgot an event if Rebecca referenced it.

"Is she someone you went to school with?"

"Unfortunately," Rebecca replied. "She was on Voldemort's side. She wants revenge."

"Why do you think she'd come after us?"

"I don't know that she will," Rebecca said with a shrug. "But she knows that I identified her, that I'm the reason Harry and the other Aurors are searching for her."

"I want you to be careful then, love," Rose said, grasping her daughter's upper arms and pulling her closer.

"I'm safe. But I want you all to be careful. Please."

Rose nodded. "Of course. Thank you for the warning."

At the Malfoy Manor, her wizarding family congregated to celebrate her twentieth birthday. There were more than enough drinks and food, a large cake, and many presents that she had not been expecting. Gifts were something Rebecca knew she would never get used to, never having received them on a regular basis as a child. But she was gracious, of course.

Remus was eager to show her little Teddy's gift. He set the boy upon the ground and let him go. At almost two, Teddy was proficient in standing and walking on his own without issue. But with Rebecca across the room, she watched him with a smile on her face.

"Go say hello to Becca, Teddy," Remus said to his son.

The boy obeyed, running across the room in his awkward toddler gate. Rebecca knelt as she grinned, opening her arms wide to receive Teddy in her arms. As she stood, holding him, he giggled.

"Happy Becca."

"Yes, Teddy, I'm very happy," Rebecca said, ruffling the boy's already messy red hair. "Thank you for a lovely present."

Remus approached her, and Rebecca turned to look at him.

"And just when has he been able to run so well?"

"Just this past week," Remus said. "He had to get over his fear of falling first."

"Next thing you'll tell me is that he's flying on his own," Rebecca replied, smiling down at Teddy.

"Let's hope not quite that soon," Remus said, reaching toward his son.

Teddy allowed his father to take him from Rebecca's arms, but he immediately wanted down afterward.

"Teddy go see Fleur!" he said.

Remus put the boy down, and he ran over to Fleur and Bill, who were currently speaking with the Malfoys. Teddy seemed very interested in Fleur's large belly, and all attention turned to him to answer his questions.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of him when he comes to Hogwarts," Rebecca said with a smile toward Remus.

"I'm glad to hear you're planning on staying in one place."

"It helps that things are going relatively well."

Remus nodded. "You're happy, then."

Rebecca smiled. "As happy as I've been in a while. But if Harry could catch Pansy, that'd be the best birthday present I'd ever get."

"He tells me they've gotten some leads, but none have panned out thus far," Remus commented. "But don't concern yourself with that just now. It's been a while, and everyone is healing up. She may not even try anything since you know who she is."

"It's the 'ifs' that bother me."

"I think you need more cake," Remus said, placing a hand on her back and pushing her gently toward the table with the dessert. "At least cake is always definitive."

Rebecca chuckled. She allowed herself to be called across the room for the remainder of the party, always on the move between the different groups. Everyone wanted to make sure she was doing well, that she was happy. Then the mock war between the Slytherins of the group and the Gryffindors began when Rebecca gave them the breakdown of the scores.

"Gryffindor has to triumph in Quidditch, at least," Ron said.

"So far, we've each won both of our games against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," Rebecca said. "While I may not like Burns, he can certainly motivate his students."

"I think our Quidditch team will have no problem trouncing Gryffindor," said Draco. "We happen to have a star Keeper on our team, unlike a former Gryffindor team."

He couldn't hide the smirk on his face as he took a sip of his drink.

Ron shot him a glare, but Hermione nudged him. "Ron, he's kidding."

"Oh, right. Well, seems like Draco's a little biased, considering the Keeper's his girlfriend."

"A Slytherin is never biased," Draco stated.

"Pull the other one, mate!" Ron said, laughing.

The listeners of the conversation joined Ron in the well-meaning laugh. Once again, Rebecca marveled at how well her friends got along, even if there were a few moments that proved old habits did die hard. Never had she imagined that everyone would bond together and come to an understanding. She knew that everyone was trying very hard to get along, and it appeared to be proving that most old wounds can heal.

Rebecca turned to see Lucius and Arthur speaking. Both men were rather stiff around one another, but Lucius had indicated to Rebecca on her last visit that he and Arthur Weasley had had a long conversation about Lucius' dealings with Tom Riddle's diary and giving it to Ginny. Lucius had admitted the fault was all upon him, and he regretted his decision terribly. Arthur had been quite taken back with the outward admittance of fault and the apology. Since then, the heads of the different families had sought out the other's company at their get-togethers to continue their rapport.

It was almost time for her to return to Hogwarts. Her window to get onto the grounds without having to contact Minerva again was only thirty seconds. She began to give her goodbyes and her thanks, making certain to shrink her packages so that she could easily take them with her. Soon, she was back in front of the magical barrier that separated the outside world from the safety of the school. She stepped through the wards and felt them shut behind her.

She decided to take the scenic route along the lake. The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful golden hue over everything. Rebecca's pace was slow so that she could take everything in and revel in the quiet. As she approached a tree, she could see that someone was leaning against it, watching her. She knew who it was as soon as she recognized that she was not alone.

She and Severus had spoken briefly since their encounter in her quarters on Valentine's Day. He acknowledged her more openly in staff meetings and about the castle. He treated her just as he would any of his other colleagues. The change in him didn't go unnoticed, but naturally no one had out rightly asked about it. Rebecca appreciated the effort he was putting into his treatment of her, but she still grappled with her own emotions, and so didn't seek him out unless it was something relating to the school or the students.

Rebecca came within a comfortable talking distance from him.

"Good evening, Severus."

"I believe that the appropriate response is 'Happy birthday, Rebecca,'" he said, still leaning against the tree. His eyes finally met hers. "However, I'll refrain until I'm certain you won't set fire to me."

Rebecca snorted. "I think you're safe."

He stood straight, approaching her slowly. "I expect your day has been full of idle chatter and well-wishes."

"Very full of it."

"Then I'll save you the pleasantries," he said.

It was something she could appreciate about him. He was perceptive and knew all about humanity, which is perhaps why he chose to stay out of it as much as he did. She knew a conversation with Severus Snape would never be boring or full of words that didn't mean anything.

He stopped just before her, then reached into his robes. Within his hands he held a small parcel.

"Allow me to fill your day with just a moment more of well-wishes," he said, holding the parcel toward her.

Rebecca took the package from him and opened it carefully, not daring herself to look up at him as she did so. She lifted the lid and moved tissue paper out of the way. Already she grew nervous, as this was far more wrapping than she was accustomed to in a gift from Severus Snape.

Beyond the wrapping sat a lovely scarf, long and elegant. It held many shades of green, all of them dark, presumably to match the Slytherin color. On top of the greens, a single band of silver wound its way down the scarf. The silver caught the retreating light of the sun and sparkled.

Quickly, Rebecca looked up at Severus. "This is beautiful," she said.

"I believe it will prove a useful tool in your gloating to Burns when your Slytherins win next weekend."

"Our Slytherins," Rebecca said. "And thank you. It's really lovely."

"Our Slytherins," Severus said, shaking his head. "I believe that they are firmly yours. This term has proved so."

"They respect you."

"But I do not have their loyalty as you do."

Rebecca shrugged. "I'd be willing to share them."

"I believed us to be past the point of lying to one another."

"Fine," Rebecca said. "They're mine and you can't have them." She smiled.

Severus smirked, but the expression was gone quickly. He reached forward, taking the package from her hands. With his free hand, he lifted the scarf from the box and then dropped the parcel upon the ground. Then, with both hands, he placed the scarf over her neck. His hands fell toward the ends of the garment, but he did not let go.

Rebecca was the first to break their gaze, looking down at the scarf draped about her. The pit of her stomach felt as though it was on fire, and she knew that she desperately wanted to step into his embrace. Her mind recalled the moment just before he left her quarters last month, with his forehead pressed against hers. He had been careful in how he had handled her, but there was the underlying forcefulness to his movements that still worried her. He was possessive, as his actions showed.

"I'll wear it at the game," she said, looking back up at him. "Thank you, Severus. I really do like it."

His hands released their gentle grip upon the scarf. Severus took a half-step away from her.

"You are welcome, Rebecca."

She smiled at him. "I have to finish grading some tests, so my apologies if I seem hasty."

"I understand. I should return to my own quarters."

Rebecca knelt to pick up the parcel he'd dropped upon the ground. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she stood straight.

"Until then."

Never before had Rebecca seen the distinct frown at the edges of his lips, the crease between his brow, to indicate his disappointment.

"I really appreciate you trying, Severus," Rebecca said quietly. "I'm not overlooking it. Please know that."

"The fact that you will allow me to attempt to return to our former level of trust speaks better of you than it does of me."

"The fact that I'm even allowing you to attempt it speaks to how much I care," Rebecca said. "But it is a slow process."

"My patience has been warned."

Rebecca smiled, reaching forward and taking his hand for a moment into hers. She gave his palm a light squeeze before she slid her hand from his, turning from him and walking away.

She wondered how much of him wanted to come after her, how much he had wanted to pull her toward him. Because in the instance that she had touched him, it was as if nothing had changed. Still the same flitting sensation in her stomach, the same way her magic seemed to seek his, causing a tingling sensation upon her fingers.

It wasn't until she was safely behind the door of her quarters that she noticed the embroidery on the left edge of the scarf. It bore her initials in the same silver that ran down the length of the scarf, in the same font she had chosen for the handkerchief that she had given him for his birthday.

Despite how dangerous the situation she found herself in, Rebecca knew that it was going to be difficult to keep him at arm's length. His attempts to show her how much she was in charge constantly seemed double-edged even in his kindness. The style was another act of claiming, no matter how subtle it might have been, while at the same time it was nearly sweet—perhaps a reminder to show that he recalled the minute details.

She would have to tread carefully.

Looking down at the scarf around her neck once more, Rebecca smiled.

* * *

_A "Crash," April 30, 2000_

"I have been searching for your touch / Unlike any touch I've ever known. / And I never thought about you much / 'Till I'm broken down and all alone. / Though I don't understand the meaning of love, / I do not mind if I die trying. / Took it for granted when you lifted me up. / I'm asking for your help, / I am going through hell, / Afraid nothing can save me but the sound of your voice. / You cut out all the noise, /And now that I can see mistakes so clearly now, / I'd kill if I could take you back, / But how? / But how? / Though I don't understand the meaning of love / I do not mind if I die trying. / I do not mind if I die trying. / I do not mind if I die trying." – "How" by Maroon 5

* * *

Severus was pleased with how his interactions with Rebecca appeared to be paying off. As it neared the end of the semester, neither of them had very much time for anything besides their students, so their conversations were limited to the Great Hall and the staff room. Still, however, she had worn the scarf he had given her to the Quidditch game. Slytherin had won, granting them the Quidditch Cup. Now they were in the lead for the House Cup. Until this point, Severus had never seen Rebecca quite so happy before.

This morning he planned on congratulating her early. Gryffindor was behind them securely enough that he felt as though she would appreciate the thanks, despite the fact that there was still two months left in the term.

But when he approached the staff table, all he saw was a stony-faced Minerva and no Rebecca. He took his seat beside the Headmistress.

"Severus, I will need you to substitute for Rebecca's classes for the remainder of the week. I will be taking over yours until her return."

Severus' brows furrowed. "Is there a particular reason Professor Felan has chosen to grace us with her absence?"

"Her parents have been attacked," Minerva said, lowering her voice. "They're at St. Mungo's and she is with them. Her brother contacted her this morning from a muggle hospital after they contacted him. Rebecca was able to contact Mr. Potter and enlist the help of an Obliviator so that she could transport her parents. It appears as though Miss Parkinson has struck again."

Severus frowned. He would be in charge of teaching Potions once more for three days. That, however, would be very little of an issue. The issues he could foresee dealt with how Rebecca would handle herself with her parents' health, and how Slytherin might suffer as a result.

"Did Professor Felan state where she may have left her lesson plans?" Severus asked.

"She did not, but I'm certain they'll be on her desk."

Severus did not have much of an appetite, and so left the Great Hall soon after his conversation with Minerva. He did not, in fact, find Rebecca's lesson plans upon her desk in her office, and so had to rummage around a while before locating them, separated by year, in the desk drawer.

The day went by slowly, with each new class bringing with them confusion and apprehension at facing Professor Snape once again. Finally, Severus was able to get through the day. Instead of returning to the Great Hall for dinner, Severus went back to her office. When he had been looking for her lesson plans, he had noticed that she had a couple of piles of essays that needed grading. He set himself to the task of getting through at least two of the piles for her.

He was half-way through the first essay when he realised what he was doing. The quill hovered suddenly above the page. Severus assessed his feelings on the situation before allowing the tip of the quill to contact the parchment as he scribbled his comments on the margin.

It was ten at night before he glanced up at the clock. His hand had not cramped once during his concentrated efforts. He had managed in six hours' time, to get through all four of the stacks of essays. None of them had been particularly long or difficult, and the memories of grading similar essays had taken him over a third of the way through the second years' stack.

But this left him with nothing to do. He could review her lessons for the rest of the week, but he had already done that over lunch, having eaten something as he'd done so in her office. There was nothing wrong with her lesson plans, which eerily mirrored his own when he had taught, with minor tweaks here and there.

Severus sat in her chair behind her desk, all of which had belonged to him. The room seemed different, and yet she had changed very little. The clock chimed the quarter hour, and Severus' lips thinned. He stood and exited her office, warding it after himself.

Rebecca sat in the armchair that she had transfigured from the typical plastic chairs from the waiting room. Her legs were upon the seat of the chair, folded upon each other and tucked up against her body. She watched her parents intently, but the rest of her body was rigid. Sounds of the hospital surrounded her, making her overly aware of everything.

Her parents lay in separate beds, the green numbers floating over them, announcing their vitals. The mediwitches had seen fit to keep them unconscious for now, but they could wake of their own accord should their pain get below a certain level. Neither of them had even made a stirring since she'd gotten to them earlier this morning.

She rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes in that instant. Familiar footfalls came from down the hallway. When she looked up, she was not surprised to see Severus Snape standing in the doorway to her parents' hospital room. In fact, no emotion seemed to be able to course through her. Severus stared at her for a moment, his eyes roaming over her to assess her posture, her expression, and if she herself was injured. Then his eyes trained upon the individuals in the bed just the few feet from her.

"How are your parents?"

"Stable," she said evenly. "But they're in bad shape regardless."

He took a few more steps into the room, taking the seat in the uncomfortable chair Rebecca had not bothered to transfigure.

"How are you?"

"I don't want to talk about that right now."

Her voice shook, and without the benefit of allowing herself to emote, Severus could not tell if she was shaken by the incident, if she was angry, or any of the number of other feelings that could have caused her voice to shake. He simply nodded in return.

"What happened?"

"They got into their car this morning," Rebecca said. "Dad had the day off, so they were going to the cinema. On the way there, their car stopped working, which made my father run into the guardrail on the freeway. The police were trying to figure it out after my parents were at the hospital. Thankfully, they called my brother, who contact me through the box I had Hermione make him. Harry was able to help me clean up the situation by sending some Obliviators."

She glanced at her parents. "The mediwitches don't seem to understand what happened, but the best they can figure out is that magic was used in conjunction with the car engine. Because the car and the magic didn't mix, the car simply malfunctioned instead of exploding, which seems to be the most obvious thing to make the car do. But Pansy must have cast some sort of hex or curse on them beforehand to make it so they couldn't escape or try to save themselves."

Rebecca shook her head. "The mediwitches have treated them as best they can, but the rest is up to them."

Severus watched her run her hands through her hair. She stayed in her slightly curled up position for a while, and he remained quiet. There was nothing that he could say to rectify the situation, and this was not the time for idle chatter.

"I keep wondering what would have happened if I'd been able to catch her."

"This is not your fault," Severus said firmly.

"Harry's given me the same platitudes," she replied, not looking up at him. "They're no closer to catching her than they were after she attacked George."

Severus watched her for a long moment. She still looked down at herself, one hand in her hair and the other limp in her lap. He stood and walked the two feet so that he could kneel before her, then reached forward to push the hair from her face. She pushed his hand away, then looked up at him.

"I want her _dead_."

Severus blinked, surprised at the sudden hatred her voice had taken on. He remained kneeling in front of her, though his knee was beginning to twinge from the effort. The air was tense between them, her green eyes wide with her emotions, her hair looking tussled from the hand that had just vacated it.

"You know that I would give that to you if I were able," he said quietly.

Rebecca shook her head, sitting back in her chair. "I would rather you not. There will be justice, even if it's not the type I might want. It's the type that's necessary."

"Some things do not always have to be left for the greater good," he responded, eyes looking over her face as he spoke.

"Severus." Her voice was deadly serious as her eyes met his once more. "Enough."

He gave a slight nod, then placed his hand upon the arm of her chair to help him stand. "You should sleep," he said. "You are exhausted."

"I can't leave them." Her head turned to face them once more, concern washing out any other emotion.

"I will take over your watch."

Rebecca looked up at him. "You're already taking over my classes. I can't ask you to do this."

"You didn't need to ask. I am offering."

"And I'm refusing."

"Then I will wait with you," he said, returning to his seat. With a flourish of his wand, the chair transfigured to something similar to her own, except his was black in colour.

"You don't need to wait with me. There's no use in us both being tired."

Severus looked once more at the figures of her parents before turning about to face her.

"I will stay."

He turned around and didn't look at her again, taking up observing her parents as if she wasn't in the room or had taken his option to sleep while he sat vigil. Rebecca stared at him, taking in his focused expression.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Do you really need to ask such a question?" He didn't even turn to look at her.

"I want to know the truth."

Silence. It made the hospital room seem so much bigger than it actually was. Rebecca saw his jaw had tightened. Finally, he let it relax. He licked his lips before he began to speak.

"During the summer between my sixth and seventh years, I sat in a Muggle hospital room. My mother was dying. Cancer. My father didn't wish to spend the evening with her, had barely spent any time with her by the end of things. So the nurses allowed me to stay."

His eyes were trained on her mother, as if she, too, could drop from existence at any moment.

"While my mother and I never had the best relationship, we were still closer than my father and I. She passed in the night, and I'd never felt more alone than I did at the moment I felt her hand go limp in mine."

Slowly, he turned his head so that he could glance at her over his shoulder.

"While I know that your parents are in no mortal peril, I would prefer that you not have to live through the feelings that I suffered that night should something go amiss."

He was just about to look back towards Mr. and Mrs. Felan when her hand reached forward. Severus felt the warmth of her hand fill his own. His gaze flicked back to hers to see that her eyes were glazed.

"I'm so scared," she whispered.

He nodded. "The feeling will pass."

"It never seems like it will. Not with her still out there."

"She cannot harm them here," he said quietly. "Your brother, I presume, is safe?"

She nodded. "Arthur came and picked him up this afternoon. He and his dog are at the Burrow."

"You have made every precaution that you can think of, and I am certain that you did before this event occurred."

"I warned her…"

"Then it was all you could have done. You could not have known they would be the next targets, and you cannot watch them constantly."

Severus looked at their linked hand in the tiny space between their chairs. No more than a foot. Such a small distance, and still it seemed as though he might never be able to bridge it. Gently, her hand pulled from his grasp. His eyes followed its trajectory back toward her face, where she wiped underneath her eyes quickly.

"Thank you."

He didn't respond, and didn't feel the need to. The room was quiet as they both watched the numbers float above her parents lying in their hospital beds. Severus did not count the minutes as they passed, but he knew from the oncoming lack of feeling in his left leg that he should stand for a moment.

When he did, Rebecca did not stir. He noticed that her head rested on the arm of the chair, the rest of her curled naturally into the big seat. Her face looked entirely peaceful. Severus looked about and did not see her cloak or any extra blankets within the room, so he unfastened his own. He stepped forward and draped it carefully over her, then moved away from her sleeping figure, turning his attention back to her parents.

As Severus stretched his legs, the chart that monitored Mr. Felan's brainwaves began to increase. Severus looked just as the man was beginning to open his eyes, and so he stepped toward him. Roger squinted at him.

"Who're you?" he whispered.

"My name is Severus Snape. I am your daughter's colleague."

Roger's eyes took in his surroundings carefully. "I'm not at a normal hospital." His voice was raspy.

"You are at St. Mungo's, a wizarding hospital."

"Then that wasn't a normal accident."

He attempted to sit up, and Severus watched him struggle. Finally, the man remained upon his back, head slightly elevated by the pillow.

"How's Rose?"

"She is stable," Severus said, motioning to the bed just a few feet from Mr. Felan's own. "But you are the first to awaken."

Roger nodded. "This is because of what Rebecca's involved in."

"Not necessarily."

Roger's eyes met Severus'.

"I don't know anyone else with magic."

"You cannot blame her for this," Severus said.

"It's difficult not to when this only happens because you have a magical daughter," Roger said, jerking his head to indicate the predicament around him.

"She has kept you from danger until this point. There was nothing to indicate that you or the rest of your family were a target."

"I don't need a lecture from you."

Severus' brows furrowed and his lips grew into a very thin line as Roger turned his head toward the wall.

"Your daughter has sacrificed more than you could ever possibly conceive for the people whom she cares for," Severus said. "She has watched over you every instant since your son contacted her."

Roger didn't respond. Severus took a step closer to the bed, glaring down at Roger as he spoke.

"I have known men like you," he said, his voice quiet and his words quick. "You are all cowards. A man like you should never have been graced with someone like your daughter."

"You're awfully nosy for a colleague," Roger said, finally turning his head once more to face Severus. "Do us a favour and grab a nurse or whatever you people call them."

Severus had his mouth open to retort when Rebecca called his name from behind him. He turned to see her beginning to stand from her chair and approach him and her father. His cloak was draped over the arm of the chair.

"Could you retrieve a Mediwitch, please? My father and I have a little to discuss before she comes in."

He stared at her, but she gave nothing away. Finally, he nodded, walking toward her to exit the room. She didn't glance at him as he passed. Once out in the hallway, Severus found a Mediwitch relatively easily. He explained briefly about the situation in their room, and she agreed to accompany him back momentarily. He watched her return to the station down the hallway and return to him with a file, which only had a couple of parchments.

Severus walked with the Mediwitch back to the room, where she found Rebecca gathering up his cloak. The Mediwitch was about to pass Rebecca, who held her hand out to intercept the woman.

"When they are discharged, please send me the invoice," she whispered.

The Mediwitch nodded, then went into action, approaching Mr. Felan and taking his vitals. He remained stoically silent. Severus waited until Rebecca turned to him, though she did not look up at him.

"My father has requested that I leave him and my mother to their own devices," she said quietly. She handed him his cloak and he took it. "So I'll be returning to Hogwarts."

"I will contact Minerva," Severus replied.

Rebecca preceded him into the hallway, and it wasn't until they were quite a ways down that Severus cast his Patronus and gave his message to it. The wolf trotted past Rebecca, who paused to look at it. The Patronus then curled into itself and shot out of the building, carrying with it its message to the Headmistress. Without waiting for him, Rebecca continued down the hallway and toward the Apparation room.

Minerva's cat Patronus found them just as they were entering the room downstairs. She had cleared them to return to Hogwarts. Severus closed the door behind them and took out his wand, noting that Rebecca did not do the same. He offered her his arm. Slowly, she reached up and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. He Apparated them back to the Hogwarts grounds.

Once on solid ground, Rebecca let her hand fall from his arm. He allowed her to set the pace, and did not speak until they were past the wards, which tingled about him.

"Do you wish to return— "

"I'll take over my classes once more tomorrow morning," she said quickly. "I can't run the risk of my students being stressed this close to their exams."

He took a step in front of her and stopped. She did the same, and finally looked up at him. All of the sadness she would not allow upon her face was in her eyes.

"He does not deserve your tears," Severus said.

"Perhaps not. But he is still my father. Is it so much that I want him to not hate me?"

"It is past some people to accept what they do not attempt to understand."

Rebecca looked past him, taking in the landscape around them. The night no longer had a chill to it, and the light from the moon shone off the flowers that were abundant upon the plants and trees upon the grounds. When she returned her attention back towards him, his eyes were intent upon her.

"You've been very kind to me. Thank you."

Severus paused, considering his response. "There was a time I took your kindness towards me for granted, and then ignored it and you, and that was my mistake to do so. However, I hope that there will come a time when you will expect such kindness from me."

He caught the tiniest of smiles upon Rebecca's face as she looked at the ground.

"Would you like an escort to your quarters?" he asked.

"That would be fine."

She walked with him at a steady pace, neither of them feeling as though they needed to fill the silence between them with words. As they mounted the hill separating the castle from the forest, Rebecca placed her hand in the crook of his arm once more. Severus didn't choose to comment on it, and she kept it there for the remainder of their trek.

They stood before the door to her quarters when she finally let go of him.

"I heard what you said to my father," she said.

He didn't respond, not certain if he should.

"You were right."

"I believed I had overstepped my bounds momentarily," he replied.

"Nearly," she said. "But he's rather hard to deal with, so I'll give you a pass this one time." She smiled. "Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Rebecca."

* * *

_Another Weasley's Arrival, May 2, 2000_

"Right from the start / You were a thief / You stole my heart, / And I your willing victim. / I let you see the parts of me / That weren't all that pretty, / And with every touch you fixed them…. / Just give me a reason, / Just a little bit's enough. / Just a second, we're not broken just bent, / And we can learn to love again. / It's in the stars, / It's been written in the scars on our hearts. / We're not broken just bent, / And we can learn to love again." – "Just Give Me a Reason" by P!nk, feat. Nate Ruess

* * *

It was the evening of the first of May that saw Bill Weasley's Patronus forming quickly in front of Rebecca.

"Fleur wants you to meet us at St. Mungo's," the horse said, its mane flipping about its neck as it shook its head. "She's in labour."

Rebecca had rushed to the Headmistress' office to use her Floo. The floors between the dungeons and the office went by in a blur, so quickly did she run. She didn't even stop as she shouted the password at the gargoyle, which jumped aside to let her in.

She burst through the door without knocking— extremely impolite and very unlike her, but these were circumstances that couldn't wait. Minerva looked up from behind her desk and Severus Snape turned about in the chair across from Minerva.

"Fleur's… gone into labour," Rebecca said between her deep breaths.

"So Mr. Weasley's Patronus informed us," Minerva said with a smile she was unable to hide.

"May I use your Floo to meet them at St. Mungo's?"

Minerva nodded.

"Thank you!"

Rebecca trotted over to the fireplace, taking up a pinch of the Floo powder. She tossed it into the fireplace, and the flames burned green.

"St. Mungo's!" she shouted, then stepped into the flames.

The fireplace at the wizarding hospital nearly spat her out. Rebecca brushed herself off as she jogged to the nearest desk, placing her hands upon it as the receptionist looked at her.

"Fleur Weasley's room, please."

The receptionist glanced down at her magically updating file book on the desk in front of her.

"It says to allow only family," the receptionist said as she looked back up at Rebecca.

"Bugger if she isn't."

Ron's voice. Rebecca turned with a smile, spotting he and Hermione coming from the Floo.

"Ronald Weasley," he said, standing beside Rebecca at the counter. "This is my wife. Becca's with us."

The receptionist gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Third floor— maternity ward. Room thirty-three-oh-one."

The three of them ran off toward the elevators, chuckling in their elation. By the time they got up to the third floor, the rest of the Weasley clan had already arrived. As they said hello to everyone, Rebecca noted that the room was already getting a little crowded, which seemed to bother the Mediwitch in charge. Bill reassured her that all they were waiting on were Fleur's parents and sister, and then that would be it.

"You can't expect me to allow this many people in the room during delivery," the Mediwitch said.

"Eet's what I want," Fleur said from the bed.

She looked as pretty as ever, her white-blond hair pinned away from her face to show her bright, blue eyes. Suddenly, she made a face and put a hand on her stomach as another contraction overtook her. After a moment, she took in a breath. Clearly the contractions were still far apart and not very powerful at the moment.

"They're our family," Bill said to the Mediwitch. "This child is as much theirs as it is ours."

"Zis baby will be born on the anniversary of ze Dark Lord's fall," Fleur said, and the Mediwitch's eyes locked with hers. "All of ze people 'ere played a part in 'is demise. They will be 'ere to see the new beginning."

The Mediwitch took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Very well. Would you like the anti-anxiety potions and pain controllers now? If you wait much longer, you will not be able to take them."

"Yes," replied Fleur.

"I'll retrieve those for you. I'll return shortly."

She left the room, and finally Fleur looked at the Weasley family standing about her, watching her. She smiled.

"Thank you all for coming," she said, reaching for Bill's hand.

"We wouldn't miss this for anything, dear," Molly said with a grin. "My first grandchild!"

She reached up and pinch Bill's cheek before leaning down to give Fleur a hug.

"Does the Mediwitch have an estimate of the delivery time?" asked Ginny, holding onto Harry's hand.

"Because of how far apart the contractions are, it could be a few hours," said Bill.

"Anyone want anything from the cafeteria?" George asked.

Molly had released him from the Burrow early last month after he'd written to Madame Pomfrey urging her for her help in the matter. He'd left the shop to his best manager, but he was worried at the sales taking a turn for the worse. After returning to his shop and his flat, which Ginny, Hermione, and Rebecca had cleaned up for him before his return, he'd rapidly returned to his normal self and health.

"Still always thinking about food," Percy said with a shake of his head.

"I was hoping you'd come with me, Perce," George replied.

Percy gave his brother a smile. "Of course."

"Speak now or forever hold your peace!" George said to everyone in the room.

Rebecca stepped away from the crowd of Weasleys, not wanting anything.

"Rebecca."

She turned to see Fleur motioning to the seat beside her bed. Rebecca smiled and walked toward Fleur. She leaned over to give her friend a hug.

"Thank you so much for coming," Fleur said. "I 'ope it wasn't any trouble."

"Never," Rebecca answered, taking the seat the woman had offered her.

Bill had been pulled into conversation with Charlie, but he cast worried looks at his wife. Finally, Fleur gave him a smile and nod to indicate that she was more than fine. His shoulders relaxed and he returned to his talk with Charlie.

"Men," Fleur said to Rebecca. "They worry over us too much."

"I know what you mean."

"Does your friend in America still send you letters?"

Rebecca nodded. "He does, but we are both very busy. They're down to once every couple of weeks, I'm sad to say. But Jamie is the type of friend who will always be with me, no matter the distance."

"Much like your relationship with 'arry, Ron, and 'ermione," Fleur said with a smile, her hand resting on her stomach.

"Very much so."

"I am glad to call you friend. You 'ave been very supportive, even if you don't feel as though you 'ave been."

"I'm not sure I understand," Rebecca said.

"Every time you've come over for tea, or just to send me an owl simply to see 'ow I am doing, I find it very kind."

Rebecca hadn't relised how much impact her weekly letters and monthly tea times with Fleur had meant to the other woman.

"I know you 'ave been worried since my attack, but you 'ave not treated me any differently because of it." Her eyes glanced at Bill. "My 'usband tried to treat me as you would porcelain, and I told 'im I did not appreciate it."

"He loves you," Rebecca said. "It's difficult to remind yourself to back off when you're so close o a situation."

Fleur nodded. "Of course. I could never 'old anything against 'im. But I wanted to thank you, Rebecca."

"You're welcome. It really was a pleasure getting to know you." She smiled. "I'm glad we're friends."

Fleur's smile would have made the most difficult man weak in the knees. Rebecca couldn't help but wonder at the child produced between such a handsome couple.

"'ave you 'eard from your parents?"

Rebecca's smile faltered before it fell. "Not since Pansy attacked them. Kingsley's been kind to have a guard upon their home and my brother's twenty-four hours a day."

"I am sorry for your father's treatment of you. There was nothing you could 'ave done."

"I know. Thank you." Her smile returned, though it was much smaller than it had originally been.

Fleur, sensing that she had inadvertently upset her friend, turned her attention to something else.

"Bill and I 'ave thought of a name for our baby," she said.

"What ideas do you have?"

"If the baby is a boy, we will name 'im William Arthur, after 'is father, and grandfather," said Fleur, smiling.

"And if it's a girl?"

"Victoire Gabrielle."

Rebecca smiled. "Both to symbolize your victory."

"_Our_ victory."

It was then that Fleur's parents and sister entered the room, and Fleur turned her attention to her family members. Rebecca stood from her chair beside the bed and vacated the area.

She went to stand beside Harry and Hermione, who appeared equally out of place as her, standing against the farthest wall of the hospital room. They watched as the Delacours reunited, then were interrupted by the Mediwitch administering Fleur's potions.

"That's a lovely scarf you're wearing, Rebecca," Hermione said.

Rebecca looked down, not having realised that she had grabbed the scarf when she left her office.

"Thank you," she replied, looking back up with a smile.

"Where did you get it?"

An innocuous question, but answering it would garner more attention than she wanted at the moment. But there was no reason to lie.

"It was a present from Severus on my birthday."

"Oh," said Hermione, eyes widening for just a moment before she tried to hide her reaction.

"It's lovely," Harry said, nodding.

Rebecca nodded. None of them said anything for quite a while, being content to watch the happenings in the room. Hermione eventually excused herself to go with Ron to grab some tea, as Fleur's contractions still indicated that it would at least be an hour before she was delivering.

That left Rebecca and Harry leaning against the wall, the latter watching his wife speak with Bill, smiling and laughing as they discussed the impending arrival of the baby.

"How are things at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Good. I think Slytherin has a good chance of winning the House Cup, barring anything untoward."

"No more attacks?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Not since my parents. I'm not sure what to think about all of it, about Pansy."

"Neither are we, to be completely honest."

"Where have you looked for her?"

"We've talked with all the remaining pureblood families. I even went to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy to see if they could offer some insight."

"Maybe you'll have to start looking where you least suspect her to be."

Harry pursed his lips as he thought. "It may be the only thing left at this point. Either that or we'll have to put all war heroes under twenty-four hour surveillance until she's caught, and there's just not enough man power for that."

"Well at least you don't have to worry about those at Hogwarts," Rebecca said. "Minerva's wards won't allow anyone with a Dark Mark of any kind in at all. We tested." She winced at that memory.

Harry turned his head to face her. "I can imagine it's a bit insulting."

"A little at first. But it's to protect the students. It doesn't matter about our personal preferences."

She touched her left forearm with her right hand self-consciously for the first time in a long while.

Harry nodded. "Are things any different between you and Professor Snape? I mean, you said he gave you the scarf."

"We're working through a lot of things," Rebecca said, looking to meet Harry's gaze. "I think we're finally comfortable enough to call each other colleagues."

He paused. "I'm sorry I sprang him on you at the weddings. I thought— "

"You had good intentions, Harry. It's all right."

She smiled at him.

"Do you still care for him? You know, like you told him after." He shut his mouth quickly, unable to think of the appropriate words to say.

"It's complicated."

"Sorry, I'll stop pestering you about it."

"I know that you want to see me happy, Harry," Rebecca said, nudging his shoulder with her own. "But I want you to know that I'm as happy as I could be at this very moment, regardless of my lack of love life."

She smiled, and he chuckled.

"I _am_ glad to hear it."

"Now do me a favour and catch Pansy. You'll make me the happiest girl ever."

"I promise I'll do everything I can."

"I know you will."

They both turned back to the scene before them. The Mediwitch was clearly becoming frazzled with so many people in the room, which she was unaccustomed to. Rebecca could see her speaking with Fleur, as if in an attempt to reason with her. Fleur held her bulging stomach with both her hands, her face screwed into a look of concentration and slight discomfort. Bill was at her side and soon talking with the Mediwitch as well.

"Everyone," Bill said, finally looking about the room. "The Mediwitch has suggested that only Fleur's immediate family be allowed to stay. It's a bit crowded. But you're all welcome to wait just outside in the hallway."

The Weasley clan nodded their agreement. Fleur's father also agreed to leave, and Rebecca could tell he looked slightly relieved at not needing to stay inside the room. He gave his daughter a kiss on either cheek and did the same to Bill and his wife and daughter before following the Weasleys out.

"Rebecca!"

She turned at Fleur calling her name.

"I would like it if you would stay as well."

"Are you sure?"

"If it does not make you uncomfortable," Fleur said. "I believe Bill and I would feel safer with you being here."

Rebecca nodded, understanding the nervousness in Fleur's voice.

"Of course I'll stay," she said, approaching the bedside.

Bill laid a hand on her shoulder briefly in his thanks before taking up his wife's hand.

The wait was excruciating, mostly because even with the potions the Mediwitch had given her, it was still clearly a painful process. It was just after midnight, perhaps closer to one in the morning, when Fleur finally delivered. Bill gripped one of his wife's hands while her sister held the other. Her mother stood behind her head, stroking her daughter's hair and whispering comforting words to her in French.

Rebecca stood vigilant beside Bill, her eyes locked upon Fleur. The woman glanced at her every few moments, as if making sure she was still there.

"Just one more push!" the Mediwitch said from the end of the bed.

Fleur shook her head, her breathing heavy. She was exhausted, her body covered with sweat and her cheeks in her tears from her effort.

"You've got this, love," Bill said.

Fleur's mother and Gabrielle spoke their words of encouragement in French, their voices quiet and quick.

Rebecca looked at the clock, her hands gripping the edge of the bed so hard that her knuckles were white. It was the almost the exact minute that Harry had ended the Second Wizarding War two years ago. As she turned back to Fleur, she found the soon-to-be-mother's eyes upon her.

Rebecca nodded. "For victory."

Bill turned to look at Rebecca, and then he, too, nodded as he looked back to his wife. "For victory."

Fleur's family echoed the sentiment. Fleur clenched her jaw and screamed with her effort. The room filled with a second screaming, high-pitched and piercing. They all turned to look at the Mediwitch, who held the baby aloft. Though covered in various bodily fluids, the white-blond hair atop the child's head gleamed in the lights of the hospital room. Her eyes were screwed shut as she continued to scream, her fists waving about in the air as she wiggled in the Mediwitch's arms.

"A girl," said the Mediwitch with a smile. The small group in the room gave a cry of joy.

Quickly, the baby was cleaned of the remnants of her venture through the womb and wrapped in a soft blanket. The Mediwitch handed the little girl, who was now quieting slowly, off to Fleur, whose eyes widened and mouth opened in her happiness to receive her first child.

Rebecca pulled herself away from the edge of the bed to go to the hallway, poking her head out the door.

"It's a little girl!"

The shouts of glee from those waiting probably startled all of the patients on the floor, and soon they were hushed by the Mediwitches nearby. As those waiting hugged one another, Rebecca looked back into the room, looking to the overseeing Mediwitch, asking the silent permission.

"Only if Mrs. Weasley is feeling up to the crowd."

"Of course! Let them in to see little Victoire!"

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of emotions for the Weasley and Delacours in the room. They all cooed over the likeness of the baby to both her parents, commended Bill and Fleur on the choice of name, and grew quiet to watch the infant sleeping in her mother's arms.

Rebecca watched from a few feet away, having removed herself from the throng as soon as everyone was allowed into the room. This was their celebration, and she was simply happy to be here to have witnessed everything.

The baby Victoire was passed from her father to her grandparents, then to her aunts and uncles. Each marveled at the baby they held, Hermione and Ron and Harry and Ginny looking particularly fond of their new niece.

Charlie, Percy, and George were the first to take their leave, each needing to be up early the next day. They all said their well-wishes and hugged everyone before leaving. The newlyweds were the next to take their leave, though they lingered much longer with their goodbyes. Rebecca was just about to say her farewells when Fleur turned her smile upon her.

"Would you like to 'old 'er?"

Rebecca was struck speechless, but she approached the bed regardless. She found Fleur presenting her infant to her, and Rebecca took the little girl with shaking arms. Rebecca looked down at the tiny face, where she saw the smaller version of Bill's nose, the shape of Fleur's cheekbones and eyes, and the distinct Weasley chin.

"There are times I didn't think this would be possible," Rebecca said quietly. "But she's here, and she's absolutely perfect."

She grinned at Fleur before looking back to the baby in her arms. The infant began to squirm, and her eyes opened. Her eyes were a bright blue, and they moved curiously over Rebecca's face.

"Victoire Weasley, welcome to the world," Rebecca whispered. She turned back to Fleur and handed the woman her daughter. "I need to be getting back. Thank you for letting me be a part of this."

"We're glad you could be here," Bill said. "Fleur and I were nervous, and your presence comforted her."

"It was my pleasure," Rebecca replied, smiling at the new parents. She reached forward and grasped Fleur's hand. "Let me know when you're up for tea again. No rush."

"Thank you, Rebecca."

She smiled once more, then gave her hugs to the Weasleys, and her handshakes to the Delacours. Once out in the hallway, she cast her Patronus as easily as she'd been able to in quite some time, telling Minerva of her need for re-entry to Hogwarts.

She Flooed through to the Headmistress' office and celebrated with a very tired-looking McGonagall over the birth of the new child. Rebecca did not linger, knowing that Minerva would wish to get back to sleep, so she took her leave.

The smile would not leave her face as she made her way back to her quarters. She would be very tired for the next day's classes, as it was nearly two in the morning, but all of it had been worth it. Moreover, the next day was Friday, so the weekend was in sight and welcomed.

She truly wasn't expecting to see anyone in the dungeons, so when she finally noticed Severus leaning against the door to her rooms, she couldn't help but jump. Just after she did, the smile returned, and she even chuckled.

"Tell me, does the newest addition to the Weasley clan have the same shade of red hair as the rest of them?"

"You were the last person I suspected to care so much for the child in question to stay up to ask such a question."

"I happened to be finished with my rounds and was not yet prepared to sleep."

"Her hair is like her mother's, if you're so curious," Rebecca said. "But she's a lovely mix of her parents. She'll be a beauty when she grows up."

"And her name?"

"Victoire."

"How very appropriate."

The very edge of his lip had turned up in his own version of a smile.

"You seem very pleased," he said.

"I am, more than I have been in a long time."

"I had not thought of you as someone who enjoyed the company of infants."

The rest was left unsaid, but Rebecca understood what he meant.

"I hadn't either, to be honest. Thankfully, that is something you don't have to concern yourself with."

"Indeed."

Rebecca saw the way his eyes flicked over her person, as if assessing her for any damage she may have incurred while at the hospital or on her way back to Hogwarts, though she'd taken the Floo both ways.

"I am pleased that you enjoy your gift," he said quietly.

"I've found it's grown on me, much like the individual who gifted it to me."

"Said gift-giver is a very lucky individual to be held in your esteem."

"Luck has nothing to do with my esteem for him. He has been slowly earning it back."

Severus looked down at his hands, clasped in front of him. As he looked up, he stood straight, his arms falling to his sides. He took a step toward her.

"I hope that he does not disappoint you again."

She nodded. "I hope so, too."

Rebecca squared her shoulders and then moved past him. "I'm sorry, but I need to get some sleep."

Severus took a step back from her door. "Of course."

"Were you really on your rounds?" she asked, turning around but still keeping a hand upon her door.

"Yes."

"You don't have to keep checking up on me. I can take care of myself."

"You have proved yourself thoroughly able to."

"Then why were you waiting for me?"

"To make certain you arrived safely. Parkinson is still in hiding."

Rebecca nodded. "Ever my protector."

"I detect sarcasm."

She shrugged, then turned back to her door. He felt the power from her wards slipping, and she opened the door and stepped through.

"Good night, Severus."

She shut the door, and her magic returned once more, warding her inside. Severus looked at her door, wondering if he should have said what been on his mind, but he was hoping that she would have been able to read between the lines of his statement concerning her safety. Or, if she had, she was not yet willing to accept what she understood.

For that he could not blame her.

He set his feet toward the direction of the Entrance Hall, and from there he would return to his quarters. Hopefully sleep would come easier to him knowing that she had returned to the castle, happier than when she'd left.

* * *

_The Capture, May 23, 2000_

"Share my life, take me for what I am. / 'Cause I'll never change all my colors for you. / Take my love, I'll never ask for too much. / Just all that you are and everything that you do. / I don't really need to look very much further, / I don't want to have to go where you don't follow. / I won't hold it back again, this passion inside. / I can't run from myself, there's nowhere to hide. / Don't make me close one more door. / I don't wanna hurt anymore. / Stay in my arms in you dare, / Or must I imagine you there? / Don't walk away from me. / I have nothing, nothing, nothing / If I don't have you." – "I Have Nothing" by Whitney Houston

* * *

The final Hogsmeade weekend before the start of terms had proved to be uneventful. All of the students were pleased at the warmer weather that signaled the start of the summer holiday. Many others were worried too much for their exams to really enjoy their break away from the castle.

The end of the day saw Rebecca and Severus rounding up the rest of the students and sending them up toward Hogwarts. The other professors had all come down to chaperone, as they all had been doing since the attack at Christmas. Once the students were all out of Hogsmeade, she met up with Severus at the start of the path to begin the return climb to the castle.

"Hopefully you didn't have to remove any points," she said.

He shook his head. "Not from the House you're concerned with."

"Very good."

"How was your tea yesterday with Mrs. Weasley?"

"Good. Ginny and Hermione were there as well, and naturally we made a fuss over Victoire."

Severus inclined his head slightly. "I sent my congratulations as soon as I could, but my interest waned after that."

"Don't want to be wrapped up in baby talk?"

"I never held in interest in young children past teaching them."

"I think even that pushes you occasionally," Rebecca said with a smirk.

"Most are smaller versions of their dunderheaded parents. We can only hold out hope that something we teach them sticks into adulthood."

Rebecca chuckled. They climbed the hill that allowed them to see the castle, which was still a distance off.

"How are your preparations for the N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s coming?" she asked.

"As well as to be expected. Putting out the occasional panic attack here and there. Offering review sessions. Nothing spectacular."

"The same."

Rebecca considered the man walking beside her as they passed into amiable silence. The past couple of weeks had seen them more interactive outside of the staff room. He always seemed to be passing through the Entrance Hall at the same time as her, and she often found herself inviting him for tea. He would only stay a few minutes, and did not press any issue between them any further.

She knew that he put himself in plain view so that she would speak with him, but that was all he did. After that, everything had progressed at the rate which she had chosen. Once, she had even sought him out in his office, originally to ask about a particular issue she was having with one of the older cauldrons which had seemed to develop some sort of odd belching noise, probably a prank that had been cast on it at some point. But she had stayed for the conversation afterward.

The game no longer felt as dangerous. Trust was slowly being restored. But the thought that was forever in the back of her mind never gave her rest. Would she be so willing to give her love to him again? Had he truly changed?

The Stunner that shot past her head brought her out of her thoughts. Immediately, her hand was upon her wand, and she turned at the same time as Severus, both of them in their dueling stances. Before them stood Pansy Parkinson, her robes disheveled, her hair unkempt. Her wand was high in the air, about to cast another spell at them. Her sneer left her face broken—all of the former beauty Rebecca might have attributed to her was gone, replaced with grime and weariness.

"_Crucio_!"

Both of them sidestepped the assault before firing back their own Stunners, attempting to bring her down. For as tired as she looked, Pansy was able to block or dodge all of their attacks. The exchange of curses went back and forth until Pansy finally whipped her wand in quick motion in front of her body, her eyes intent upon Rebecca.

"_Tormenta converto_!" Pansy shouted.

Rebecca lifted her wand, but Severus' hand pressed against her shoulder, shoving her sideways. She tucked her shoulder so she would be able to roll and get up to a crouch, but the curse had already hit him. He was upon the ground, his arms already curling upon themselves. Rebecca's wand rose seemingly of its own accord, and pointed toward Pansy.

"_Sectumsempra_!"

Down went Pansy, the blood already pouring from her. Rebecca turned to Severus and found his arms distorted, held tightly against his body and in an unimaginable position. One was curled upon itself and the other was pointed straight downward, though his fingers curled backward. He held his eyes shut and his jaw was set in pain.

"_Vulnera sanentur_."

Pansy's wounds stopped, healing up. She was already unconscious with the blood loss. With another flick of her wand, Rebecca put her in a full Body Bind and then procured the other witch's wand. She fell to the ground beside Severus, looking him over, finally at a loss for what to do.

She shook her head, then sent her Patronus to Harry and another to Flitwick, the last professor she'd seen leaving Hogsmeade.

"Gods, Severus," she said, her voice shaking. "Can I even levitate you?"

Rebecca could hear Flitwick behind them, running along the path down from the castle. She stood.

"I have to take Severus back to the hospital wing," Rebecca said. "I need you to wait for Harry and send him to me once he comes. Parkinson is right there."

"Yes, yes, I can handle things!" Flitwick said as he came to a stop before them. "Get Severus to Poppy. Minerva knows that you're coming!"

Rebecca turned back to Severus and with a flourish of her wand levitated him. Then she ran along the path, with him floating beside her at about her waist-level. She was out of breath by the time she reached the castle wards.

The wards, thankfully, allowed the both of them through. Though her lungs screamed for her to stop her swift pace, the adrenaline coursing through her pushed her body past what she thought was her limit. Glancing over, she noted that Severus' position had not changed at all, but that a sweat had broken out upon his brow.

She couldn't reassure him, needing to save her breath to make it to the castle. As soon as she did, she noted how crowded the Entrance Hall area was. As frantic as her mind was, Rebecca knew she was too out of breath to clear the path effectively, and she couldn't risk bumping Severus against so many students.

With a swipe of her wand, her Patronus burst forth, galloping before her. Students moved aside, startled, giving Rebecca enough room to run past them all with Severus levitating beside her. Student gawked after them, but stood still at the sight.

The stairs proved another challenge altogether, but Rebecca continued onward. The one flight of stairs was nearly her undoing. Poppy and Minerva awaited her outside of the hospital wing, both of them ushering her inside. As soon as she and Severus were through the doors, Poppy followed them as Minerva closed off the entrance.

"On the bed, dear!" Poppy said.

Rebecca levitated Severus as she was told to. As soon as his body hit the bed, Rebecca released the spell and collapsed into the nearest chair, chest heaving.

"Severus, I'm going to give you a Calming and Sleeping Draught," Poppy said quickly.

With a flourish of her wand, the act was done.

Minerva approached Rebecca, a glass of water being held toward her. Rebecca took it with a nod of her head, but it was another few moments before she could even gulp it down. With another few breaths, she was finally able to speak.

"Parkinson," she said. "Attacked us. From Hogsmeade." She shook her head. "Tran- Transmogrifian."

"Poppy will be able to help him, Rebecca, do not worry."

"A nasty curse," Poppy said. "It's going to take him a while to heal from it, but it looks as though you were able to stop her before she could continue to cast it."

Poppy rifled through her supplies, gathering the appropriate potions and salves that would help Severus with his arms. Minerva looked back at Rebecca, who nodded.

"I stopped her," she said. "She meant. The curse. For me."

"Severus pushed you out of the way?" Minerva asked.

Rebecca nodded.

"Stupid man," Minerva grumbled. "That must have been a powerful spell to stop her magic so effectively."

Rebecca clenched her jaw.

"Perhaps it is best I do not ask any further questions," the Headmistress said. "Filius' frantic Patronus told me you've sent for Potter to collect Parkinson."

"Yes."

"Then there is little else for us to do except wait."

"If Rebecca has caught her breath, I'll need for her to bring her chair round to his other side to help me," Poppy said.

Rebecca stood, grabbing her chair with one hand and walking toward the opposite side of the bed that Poppy had indicated.

"I'll perform crowd control," Minerva said. "I'll send Potter up when he arrives."

"Thank you, Minerva," Poppy replied.

"What can I do to help?" Rebecca asked.

"I've given him the proper potions," Poppy said. "Calming and Sleeping Draughts, and the Restoration Potion to help his bones. You can't be too careful with this curse, so remember to never remove the bones and attempt to use Skele-gro. What we must do now is remove his cloak and frock coat so we can get to his arms."

Rebecca nodded, leaning forward to hold Severus in a sitting position as Poppy began disrobing him. His cloak came off easily. His body was completely limp in Rebecca's arms, even though his own arms still curled in the extremely discomforting positions.

Poppy waved her wand, Vanishing the high-necked frocked coats. They never would have been able to remove it with his arms as they were. Now that he was bare from the midsection up, Poppy indicated that Rebecca should lean him back against the pillows, which she did. Her hands were still shaking.

"These salves will help with the contortions," Poppy said, picking some up and handing them to Rebecca across the bed. She took them. "Watch and repeat what I do. It's a simple wrapping motion."

The women worked quickly and quietly, wrapping both of Severus' arms as well as they could in the bandages with the salve upon them. She noticed that his elbows were slightly more pliable after the salve had sat upon his arms for long enough.

"Good," Poppy said, noting the same thing on her side. "Now we massage."

She began, and Rebecca mimicked her actions. Finally, his elbows gave way, allowing both women to put his arms upon the bed.

"They'll need to be massaged once an hour for the next sixteen hours," Poppy said. "The bandages will need changing once every five hours. The Restoration Potion should be given to him the same time as the bandage changes. In the meantime, we'll need to keep him under. The pain will be too much for him otherwise."

"I'll do it," Rebecca said, meeting the other witch's gaze. "I'll stay with him."

Poppy nodded. "Very well. Tomorrow, we'll begin his nerve treatment once his arms have returned to normal."

It was not just Harry who entered the room, but Kingsley Shacklebolt, with her cousin following the Minster quickly.

"While I appreciate you taking a dangerous fugitive into custody, I need answers as to why she's nearly dead," Kingsley snapped.

"She attacked me, and Professor Snape shoved me out of the way so that he took the Transmogrifian Torture curse himself," Rebecca said. "I fought back with what came to mind first, a curse of Professor Snape's own."

Harry looked to her, but kept his mouth shut.

"I needed something that was powerful enough to cut off her magic, but I would not stoop to using an Unforgiveable," Rebecca said. She did not rise from her seat beside Severus.

Kingsley stared her down, but she kept his gaze, not even bothering to blink until he finally released his rigid stance.

"We can spin this with the media well enough," he said. "And, considering Parkinson's crimes, I don't believe she'll be out of Azkaban any time soon to give us other trouble."

"I would hope not, Minister."

"Potter, I'll allow you to finish up here," Kingsley said. "Remind your cousin that she is very lucky."

Rebecca rolled her eyes as Kingsley left.

"He's just angry," Harry said. "He'll be thanking you in an owl later, I'm sure."

Harry asked Rebecca for a full report of the events, which she was able to give to him now that she was able to calm down. After a few more minutes, he put a hand on her shoulder and brought her into a hug.

"We'll get her to talk and figure out if there are any others," he said. "I'm just glad you're all right."

Rebecca waved him off. "She may know Occlumency."

"If she does, I'll be in contact again."

"I'm not leaving him until he's better."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Harry said gently.

Rebecca nodded. "You can't block that curse, no matter how good you are at Shield Charms. You can only side-step them. I can't believe I wasn't moving fast enough."

"There's no way you could've known."

"I should've known as soon as she'd uttered the first syllable."

"Keep your thoughts positive," Harry said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "At least for Professor Snape."

"I'll do my best."

Harry bid her goodbye, leaving Rebecca in the hospital wing with the unconscious Severus. Poppy was in her office. Diligently, she sat at the side of his bed, administering the necessary Sleeping Draught every couple of hours, massaging both of his arms every hour, and then changing the bandages to renew the effects of the salve. Slowly, as the night progressed, his arms began to return to normal.

It was midnight by the time Poppy came out to check upon him once again and bid Rebecca goodnight.

"Don't hesitate to wake me up should you need anything."

"I won't. Thank you."

The other witch shut the door to her office, and the light underneath it went off. Rebecca sat in the dark, aside from a small candle upon the bedside table. She continued her ministrations as needed. Never did she allow herself to dwell upon what she could have done differently during the very quick duel, when they'd been ambushed so unexpectedly. Honestly, she wanted to smack him for shoving her out of the way.

But she was gentle with every touch, no matter how angry she was at him for putting himself into this position for her sake. By the time the rays of the sun began lighting the outside world, the only parts of Severus that was still contorted was his fingers. Rebecca massaged his hands, working the fingers until they lay flat. She breathed a sigh of relief, her own hands and arms aching from her continued effort throughout the night.

Poppy entered the room again at six, looking Severus over and nodding her approval at his improvement.

"Very good. We'll keep him on the Sleeping Draught until his nerves have healed," she said, returning to her cabinet full of potions.

She plucked a small vial from its depths and returned to Severus' bedside.

"If you need a minute, dear, you may use my lavatory," Poppy said, motioning toward her office.

"Thank you."

Rebecca rose and used the lavatory, washing her hands afterward and splashing water upon her face. When she came back out, the bandages upon Severus' arms were no longer there. Still he slept.

"He is out of the woods, Rebecca. Why don't you get some breakfast and perhaps some rest," Poppy said as she turned to face her.

Rebecca shook her head. "I'll be fine. I'll send for food when I get hungry. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Not at this time."

"Then I'll sit here so you can do any work you need to. I'll tell you if his condition changes, and I'll keep giving him the Sleeping Draughts."

Poppy opened her mouth to disapprove, but Rebecca had already begun returning to chair where she'd sat vigil while Poppy had slept. The Mediwitch closed her mouth and simply let the girl be. She returned to her office, where she heard the Potions Mistress call for a house elf to bring her some breakfast.

It wasn't until well after dinnertime that Poppy felt comfortable no longer giving Severus anymore Sleeping Draught.

"He might wake up in the middle of the night, and if he's still in pain—"

"I'll give him what he needs and put him back to sleep. I'll be all right, Poppy."

She nodded, then turned to head back toward her office.

"Thank you for allowing me to do this."

Poppy looked over her shoulder the Rebecca, who had not moved, though Poppy could sense the young woman was looking at her.

"I'm glad to have had your help. Good night, Rebecca."

"Good night, Poppy."

Rebecca had at least procured a pillow for the seat of the chair she sat in, making it somewhat more comfortable. She'd also gotten Winky to bring her a book from her quarters, but it sat, untouched, on the table. She simply watched him, head resting on the palm of her hand and elbow upon the arm of the chair.

She felt miserable, but couldn't will herself to sleep even if she wanted to. The clock in the corner of the room ticked closer to eleven. The light under Poppy's door had gone off about half an hour ago.

Rebecca slowly rubbed her face with both her hands.

"Never before did I imagine having someone waiting for me to awake at my sickbed."

She let her hands fall into her lap, revealing Severus watching her through half-opened eyes. Rebecca leaned forward, but did not touch him, unsure yet of how he fared.

"How do you feel?"

"Awful."

"Do you need something for the pain?"

"It is merely uncomfortable," he said.

His eyes traveled from her down to his right hand. He grimaced as he flexed his fingers. Severus turned his head upon the pillow so that he could look at her once more.

"Perhaps I will wait until the morning for a repeat of that performance."

A tiny smile came upon Rebecca's face. "Are you cold?"

"Slightly."

She stood so that she could adjust his blanket further up his bare chest.

"Arms in or out of the blanket?"

"The right out long enough so I could trouble you for some of the water you've been drinking."

"Of course."

She poured him another glass and moved to hand it to him. Severus looked as though he was concentrating very hard to move his arm. He was finally able to move it, but he hissed in pain and stopped. His arm moved no more.

Rebecca adjusted the blanket over that arm as well with her free hand. She moved forward so she could cup his cheek. Carefully, she brought the glass to his lips, tipping it just enough so that he was able to drink easily.

"Let me know when you're done," she said.

Severus kept his gaze focused on the glass, not wanting her to pull her hand away from his face. Her fingers were warm against his cheek, the sensation was pleasant. He had drunk more than half when his eyes met hers, and Rebecca lifted the glass from his lips and turned, setting it upon the table. She took her seat beside him once more.

"What day is it?" he asked, his voice sounding less haggard after his water.

"Sunday evening, nearing Monday morning."

"Good to know I have not lost a day's worth of teaching."

"I don't think you're going to be able to return to the classroom for a while, not if you can't move your arms."

"Stop or you'll have me jumping for joy." His tone was flat as he looked at her.

Rebecca smirked, shaking her head. "You're such a stupid git."

"Not generally the reaction of someone who's been spared an inordinate amount of pain."

"That curse could've killed you."

"I had every reason to trust that you'd stop her. In fact, I blearily seem to remember you doing that quite well."

"How would that have made me feel if you'd been seriously hurt or killed?"

"I imagine I wouldn't have cared overly much if I were dead."

"Severus."

"Can you imagine how I would have felt if I had simply let her curse you, even knowing what was coming?"

Rebecca's lips pursed as her jaw clenched.

"Admonish me all you want, but I regret nothing," Severus said, turning his head so that he stared at the ceiling.

He didn't even know she was moving until her hand was underneath the blanket. She felt his fingers touch the back of his hand, and the sensation was so vibrant with the regrowth of his nerves that it made him want to jump. But he held still and let her hand clasp his own.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Slowly, Severus let his head turn so that he could see her once more. Her green eyes still shone brightly, even in the dim light of the candle.

"No," he said. "It is I who should thank you. I never did express my gratitude to you for saving me."

He forced his hand to obey him, to grip her hand more tightly.

"Thank you, Rebecca."

"I saved you for purely selfish reasons, I'm afraid," she replied. "So I wouldn't be quite so quick to thank me."

Severus furrowed his brows.

"I couldn't imagine my world without you, so I saved you. I didn't care how badly you wanted to die."

There was complete silence in the room until the clock chimed the half-hour a few moments later.

"For once, I find I'm pleased that someone disregarded my feelings."

She didn't reply—didn't feel the need to. But she also did not let go of his hand. Finally, Severus turned his head once more, away from the candle, and closed his eyes. If he needed anything, she would be there, and his mind was comforted knowing that.

Rebecca awoke the next morning just before the sun, her head resting upon the bed beside Severus even as her hand still rested over his. She sat up, slowly stretching. He was still asleep. Quietly, she stood and exited the hospital wing, needing to get ready for her day's classes. Severus was better, had been awake and alert. Now the rest of his healing process could begin.

But she knew she left him because she didn't want to bear any continuation of their conversation from the night before. Cowardly.

When Severus awoke, he discovered Poppy standing over him, checking his vitals. It was through her that he began to get a shape of the previous day's events and what Rebecca Felan had been responsible for as far as his rehabilitation had been concerned. Had Severus seen her go?

He'd shaken his head, and Poppy was off on her next explanation. It would take him the better part of a week to get back the full control of his limbs. It was going to be difficult, and mostly painful, but he would make it through.

So he set himself to the task, his only assistance being the kindly Mediwitch. They continued intermittently until lunch, when Poppy brought him the food prepared for him by the hose elves. Minerva stopped by for a visit, and to tell him that she would be taking over his classes until he had fully recovered.

"Poppy expects me up and about by Friday," Severus said.

"I'm certain your students will be relieved."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"While I'm proficient in my defense, I am not you, Severus," Minerva said evenly.

"My ego cannot take anymore compliments, Minerva. It might explode."

"You're impossible."

Severus grunted.

"I am surprised that Rebecca has not continued her vigil," Minerva said. "She was practically beside herself since bringing you in yesterday."

"She has her own classes to attend to. Is there any word on Parkinson's accomplices?"

"I have heard nothing from the Ministry or the news. I suspect we won't until at least later this evening."

After a few more minutes of talking, Poppy shooed Minerva out and drew the curtains around Severus' bed once more so that they could continue their strength training. Severus was made to curl his fingers round a ball in each hand, and with each squeeze, a lightning bolt of pain shot up either arm. He sneered, but continued.

Poppy allowed him a nap around mid-afternoon before waking him to continue. At dinner, he was relieved that she would leave him alone. After dinner, she left him to return to her office, and Severus didn't realise that he'd fallen asleep until he woke again. The lights had been extinguished throughout the room, and the Mediwitch's door was closed.

Severus turned his head to see a figure seated next to his bed, watching him. His body cringed at the sudden sight, his eyes still not fully adjusted to the dark room. But he settled, finally catching the distinctly feminine look to the figure.

"I did not believe you would return."

"I had things to do." Her voice was quiet, matching his. "And then I needed to meet with Harry to discuss Pansy. I've only just gotten back."

"And you snuck past the sleeping Mediwitch to watch me sleep. Tsk, tsk." He shook his head as he attempted to sit up, but failed, only managing to shift his body slightly in her direction.

Rebecca reached forward, but then paused. "Would you like some help sitting up?"

"Conversations are generally easier when one is not lying on one's back."

She stood, stooping over him slightly so that she could lean over him. Severus leaned forward as much as he could, and he felt one hand under each of his arms. Together, they struggled to help him sit, her using her upper body strength to keep him steady as he utilised his core to help him lean forward. Finally, he was sitting up, and she kept a hand upon his shoulder to steady him as she fluffed the pillow behind him. He leaned back, allowing his arms to hang limply beside him.

Her hair brushed against his cheek as she pulled away, and Severus took in a breath as her scent overwhelmed him. Rebecca drew the chair closer to the edge of the bed, so that her knees touched it when she sat. They would not need to raise their voices when speaking, and would not threaten to awaken Poppy.

"And what did Potter have to say about Parkinson?"

"She's not working alone."

"As we considered. Who has been helping her?"

"Surprisingly, she and Gregory Goyle were traveling together, among Muggles," Rebecca answered. "Goyle was left in a similar situation to Parkinson, so they banded together."

"In the Ministry's unfailing idiocy, they did not think what to do with the recently of-age children of Death Eaters they'd thrown into Azkaban."

"It appears not. They also did not consider that both would be able to gather supplies from their parents' homes before the Aurors took all the Dark objects they could find from them."

Severus closed his eyes. "Of course. Where were their headquarters? Certainly they weren't with the Muggles the whole time?"

"No. They hid with the inhabitants of Knockturn Alley. Sympathizers. Borgin, Burke, and the like. They learned a lot from the wizards and witches they stayed with, got a lot of tips, before they began hiding in Muggle homeless shelters."

"Clever. I'm surprised Parkinson kept Goyle with her. He seems more a detriment."

"It's surprising how war changes people. Goyle's still not the brightest, but his curses and magic have certainly grown. While he let Pansy do her own thing, he was busy plaguing the Muggles, seeking his own type of revenge."

"On the homeless, the weak," Severus said, nodding. "The ones whose deaths no one would question."

"Exactly."

"Gods." He sighed. "Did Potter indicate that the Ministry was going to attempt to rectify their mistakes?"

"Yes. They're working on a programme right now."

"Thank Merlin."

Silence. Severus could begin making out her features provided by the light of the moon shining through the windows. She appeared to be thinking even as she watched him.

"Minerva says that Poppy plans to have you up by Friday," she said.

"It seems far off now, considering that I cannot still move my arms, but she believes that I will be back to mostly normal by that day."

"Can you at least move your fingers?"

"Yes. They, at least, do not ache anymore when I do."

He saw her lips purse. There was another round of silence.

"Would you like me to send Winky to get one of your shirts?"

Severus paused. "I would be appreciative."

Being vulnerable and exposed, even in front of the three people whom he knew would not harm him, was disconcerting. He watched her summon the house elf, give quiet instructions, and then send her on her way politely. They remained quiet while they waited. A few moments later, Winky returned with the high-necked shirt. Rebecca took it from her and thanked her. Winky bowed and left them.

Rebecca stood once more, and Severus leaned forward.

"Can you lift your arm?" she asked.

He was able to raise the left one just off the bed, but could not hold it.

"If you won't mind the familiarity, I'll help you," she said.

He nodded his consent. Severus did not recall the last time someone had dressed him, but he imagined that as a child it was not nearly as humiliating as he imagined the impending action was going to be. He waited as Rebecca walked to the other side of the bed. Gently, she took his hand and raised his arm slowly into the air. Severus' cheek twitched, but he stopped himself from emoting the pain it caused him.

He made a fist with his left hand, allowing her to slip the fabric over his hand. Just as carefully, she set his arm back upon the bed, and the pain subsided as she crossed over to the side of the bed she began upon. She repeated the action with this arm, and the shirt was snug across his back and upon his arms.

Severus had been unable to help watch her while she worked. Her face was set to neutral, and she was completely focused with her one task. When she was done with the first step, she glanced back to him.

"How far do you want it buttoned?" she asked.

"So the wounds cannot be seen."

He imagined she would begin straight away, with the same focus that she'd given to getting the shirt carefully over his arms. But instead, she reached forward and pulled the collar aside. Severus held very still as she drew closer to examine them.

"You've been using my salve," she said, moving her hand toward his neck so she could let the collar go.

"It has been the only thing I can find that has been somewhat successful," Severus said quietly.

The smile that came to her face was rewarding, even as uncomfortable as he was with their current situation. Finally, she leaned over, starting with the lowest button upon the high-collared shirt. Her fingers moved swiftly up, making deft work of her task. At the last few buttons upon his neck, Severus lifted his head. They were eye-level with one another, but she was looking at her hands. This gave him a few moments to observe her face.

How she had changed and grown into this beautiful woman before him. Observant, quick-witted with a deadly tongue, and above all exceedingly intelligent. And she took care of him as if it were something she was used to, did not feel burdened by her task or disgusted by him, even though she had every right to be.

He felt her fingers upon the final button, just beneath his chin. When she was done, her eyes finally met his, and the look upon her face softened as she realised he was watching her.

Severus tilted his head and leaned forward. But she put a calm hand upon his shoulder as she pulled away, pushing him back against the headboard. Silently he cursed the inability to use his arms.

"I can't."

Her hand lifted from his shoulder.

"Don't walk away from me," he said, his voice harsh as she turned from him.

Rebecca faced him once more, holding her hands before her and looking a student preparing to be verbally assaulted for her wrongdoings.

"What more must I do?" Severus asked, brows furrowed. He was barely able to keep his voice steady, let alone as quiet as he needed to ensure their privacy. "I have held nothing back from you."

"Promise me that you mean this," Rebecca said. "Promise that you won't hurt me again."

"No one can guarantee their feelings indefinitely."

"That's not what I'm asking of you."

"What you ask is impossible. You of all people should recognise this, with your past and knowing mine."

"Then you've given your answer," Rebecca said.

The tension in the room was palpable in the silence. The clock chimed midnight. Severus' nostrils flared in his attempt to stabilise his breathing, to bring his anger down. But nothing could seem to temper his emotions.

She turned on her heel and left without another word. This left Severus to stew in his own emotions, wanting to scream out in his frustrations but knowing he was liable to wake the whole floor. Then Poppy would give him a Dreamless Sleep, and he would be unable to think.

Her parting line. It had to mean something more. He went over the conversation again and again, replaying it until he could see everything—her body language, recall his facial expressions, their tone. But her meaning eluded him.

He could not sleep. Friday was so far away.

But as he trained, growing stronger again every day, he thought on their conversation, knowing that there had to be something behind her words. "_That's not what I'm asking of you_." She'd told him plainly that it was double-speak.

When he stood and dressed himself Friday morning, his arms still ached slightly. The pain had all but subsided. He could feel everything once again, and had no issues moving his arms. But he was still no closer to figuring out the riddle she'd presented him with.

* * *

_Concerning Love, May 30, 2000_

"You push me / I don't have the strength to / Resist or control you / Take me down, take me down. / You hurt me, / But do I deserve this? / You make me so nervous. / Calm me down, calm me down. / Wake you up / In the middle of the night to say / I will never walk away again. / I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh. / So come here, / And never leave this place, / Perfection of your face / Slows me down, slows me down. / So fall down / I need you to trust me. / Go easy, don't rush me. / Help me out, why don't you help me out? / Wake you up / In the middle of the night to say / I will never walk away again. / I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh. / So you say, 'Go, it isn't working.' / And I say, 'No, it isn't perfect.' / So I stay instead. / I'm never gonna leave this bed. / Take it, take it all / Take all that I have. / I'd give it all away just to get you back…. / Knocking so loud / Can you hear me yet? / Try to stay awake but you can't forget. / Wake you up / In the middle of the night to say / I will never walk away again. / I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh. / So you say, 'Go, it isn't working.' / And I say, 'No, it isn't perfect.' / So I stay instead. / I'm never gonna leave this bed." – "Never Gonna Leave This Bed" by Maroon 5

* * *

A loud, insistent knock sounded on Rebecca's door, awakening her from a deep sleep. It was easily after midnight, but the exact time she didn't know in her confusion. The pounding continued as she reached for her robe, pulling it over her and tying it closed. She rushed to the front door of her quarters as the knocking got louder. Finally, she opened it.

"Severus, what're you doing here?"

He pushed past her and then closed the door behind her, setting up the wards with a flick of his wand.

"It's half past one," Rebecca said, finally getting a glance at the clock mounted upon the wall.

"I have figured out your riddle."

"What're you talking about?" Rebecca asked.

She hadn't seen him since Monday evening, had not been back to visit him in the hospital wing.

"You were not asking me to promise indefinitely," he said.

"Severus, I don't want to have this conversation—"

"I was pained when you did not return, but you wanted me to work this out for myself," Severus said, talking over her. "And so I have."

"It's the middle of the night. I want you to leave."

She began to move forward, as if to shove him from her quarters. He reached up and grasped her wrist.

"And my epiphany has just come to me after days of thinking, so you _will_ listen."

He let go of her, and she crossed her arms over her chest, watching him.

"The verbal act of a promise is so that one does not forget the feelings attached to a particular moment in time," Severus said. "So while I believed what you wanted from me was impossible, what you truly were asking of me was not."

Rebecca looked to the floor. He was on the right track.

"Your wordplay has forced me to realise that I cannot say that I will never be cruel or unkind toward you again, as no one can predict those sorts of thing. However, I can say with absolute honesty in this very instance that I am truly regretful of what I put you through emotionally."

His eyes felt as though they were piercing right through her, as if they wanted to see into her mind. Rebecca held her ground and listened.

"In this very instance, I can tell you that I do not ever wish to be parted from you again, whether it is by an ocean or by our own inabilities to correctly express emotions."

Rebecca stared at him, feeling her mind race at his words. He was saying everything she had ever wished to hear from him, things that she had not allowed herself to believe were possible for him to speak. She shook her head and looked away. He stepped forward and placed her face between his hands, bringing her to look up at him once more.

"In this very instance I promise that I will do my best to remind myself of my feelings, to _never_ forget what I thought I could never feel again without a guilty thought."

Rebecca shut her eyes, her hands over his own that still rested upon her face.

"Are you really saying all of this right now?"

"I cannot promise you perfection," Severus said, ignoring her question. "And I cannot ask it of you in return. But I can promise you that if you will grant me your affections once more— in this instance— that I will not cast it aside, nor I will ever forget again your need for autonomy."

Rebecca was quiet, and Severus' grip upon her suddenly loosened. He had made a fool of himself, and was prepared to quickly depart. But her hands tightened just as he went to turn from her, and she pulled him back toward her.

She took in a shaky breath as his eyes found her own.

"I love you."

Severus blinked. Then the space between them was suddenly nonexistent as he pulled her flush against him, his arms wrapping around her waist. His lips crushed against hers. Rebecca cupped his cheeks with her hands, barely able to keep up with the pace he'd set. He greedily pushed his tongue into her mouth. His hands found their way into her hair. She moved against him, with him, and was able to match his own ferocious pace soon enough.

She moaned into his mouth, vocalizing the feelings he was drawing from her. His hand moved down her waist, finding the knot in the robe she wore and making fast work of it. He pushed it from her shoulders and forced it to the floor. The chill air of the dungeons crept over her, but she was not given enough time to feel the cold for how quickly Severus' hands replaced the air upon her now exposed body, thinly covered by the tank top she wore during the warmer months.

His nose proved a difficult thing to overcome in his heated attempt to remain connected to her. No matter which way he frantically turned his head, he found it difficult to breathe, and either impeded himself or her. Finally, he broke their kiss, resting his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes, catching his breath.

Rebecca's hands rested at the base of his neck, on either of his shoulders, as she took the opportunity he'd offered her to fill her lungs. Her lips felt puffy from the assault she'd just been under. But she smiled, knowing that she had not had a moment of panic the entire time. She brushed his cheek with her hand, which made him open his eyes.

"Are you always going to have that reaction when I say it?" she asked.

"The more important question, I believe, is whether you wish to learn the answer."

"I'm not sure my lips can take another round." She smirked.

"I will be gentler."

"You really want me to say it again."

She looked over his face and found that he was still, anticipating her derisive remarks. Rebecca felt guilty for questioning him.

"I love you."

True to his word, when he leaned forward to kiss her, his lips were soft. Gently, his tongue sought hers. Rebecca melted into his touch as the kiss grew deeper. She caressed the back of his head and cupped his jaw, trying to entice him further into speeding things up. He would have none of it, pursuing his own slow pace. Frustrated, Rebecca groaned, her teeth gently pulling at his bottom lip as she tried to adjust her head for a better angle.

That seemed to have done something to him. His eyes opened and he picked her up suddenly. Rebecca's legs wrapped around his waist out of reflex as her hands grasped his shoulders, his arms now holding onto her back. The cold stone of the castle wall was against her back as he returned to their kiss, renewed vigour in his movements.

He trailed his lips down her neck, making Rebecca's head turn to one side to give him access. She gave quiet little moans until he nipped the skin of her neck. He stopped his ministrations as the moan she emitted filled the room with its volume. He growled, and it made her shiver.

"Bedroom. Now."

Rebecca found herself being carried quickly across the room, the door to the bedroom slamming shut behind them. With a wave of her hand, two candles in the bedroom came to life. Severus set her upon the bed, laying over her to nip further at her neck once again. Rebecca wriggled underneath him, hands braced against his forearms as he focused his attention at the base of her neck, his nips turning into soft bites.

"Gods," she said as she breathed out.

He stopped once more, his nose and lips resting against the skin of her neck. Rebecca's eyes moved to see what he was doing. He appeared to be holding himself back, trying to speak. His pupils were heavily dilated, much like she imagined her own were. He swallowed heavily.

"Tell me if I must stop."

"I'm fine."

"I will stop if you require it of me."

"Severus, while I appreciate your concern, I swear to Merlin that if you don't do _something_ I'm going to kick you out for being a tease."

The long fingers of his hand splayed across her neck, pushing her head gently to the side so that he could kiss her. He could feel her heartbeat pounding against his fingers, which vibrated with the sounds she made in her throat. He wanted to draw this out for as long as possible. The feel of her underneath him was an experience that he wished to relish. And this could not be a rushed process. If it were rushed, she would never forgive him, regardless of what her empty words afterwards might mean to say.

"Severus."

Her voice was breathy once more as he broke their kiss. His hands pushed past her tank top, allowing his fingers to spread out across her small waist. Slowly, they inched their way up her abdomen as he rested his cheek against hers.

"Tell me what you know," he said, voice heavy with his lust.

"I don't understand." Her hand came to rest against his cheek.

Severus began to draw down her body. Her top rode up her stomach, and he was able to kiss his way down to the hem of her flannels. He stopped and looked up at her, finally noting the curious and slightly fearful look in her eyes.

"Tell me what you _know_."

"Should I describe it clinically to you to completely remove the mood you've successfully created?" she asked as she sat up, pushing her hair from her face.

Her movement forced him to crouch upon the floor, where Rebecca found him looking up at her from between her legs, which dangled over the edge of the bed. She saw his nostrils flare, then noted the way his eyelids fluttered right afterward. She knew that she was wet, and now there was no question that he knew it, too. He cleared his throat.

"That is not precisely what I meant," he said. "But perhaps to entice you I can turn it into a game."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm listening."

"I must know how far you wish for this to go before we continue. I felt the need to ask previously, however you held my undivided attention for quite some time."

"I don't want to overthink this," Rebecca said.

"That is a deflection, not an answer." His voice was clipped, and he slowly rose from his crouching position.

Rebecca took his hand in hers, drawing it down so she could hold it between both of her hands. Severus looked down upon her as she put his hand against her cheek, nuzzling the appendage.

She opened her eyes to look directly at him.

"Do I need to remind you the reason I'm still a virgin in the first place?"

His hand flexed, and she released her hold upon him. Severus buried his fingers into her hair as he leaned over, his mouth finding hers once more.

"You will be the death of me," he whispered harshly against her lips.

"So far I've been your life."

"Clever witch," he growled.

She chuckled. "I believe you said something about a game."

He took a deep breath in through his nose and loosened his grip upon her so he could stand straight. Rebecca watched him as he knelt to untie his shoes. He spoke as he divested himself of this part of his attire.

"The first time is awkward," he said. "We have already experienced some of it. To alleviate many more of the issues, I suggest that you tell me what you want to know more of."

He rose, his fingers unclasping his cloak and tossing it upon the floor, leaving him in his high-collared shirt and trousers.

"And when you have told me, I will do my best to _educate_ you."

A shiver went down her spine at his tone.

"I will take the look you wear as a 'yes.'"

Rebecca closed her mouth as she realised it hung open and made herself blink.

"Yes, I think I can agree to that."

"I extend the offer once more to stop whenever you feel uncomfortable."

Rebecca nodded. "Just to let you know, I haven't felt any hesitation."

Severus' eyes narrowed just slightly. "None?"

"Not even when you had me pinned against the wall."

She saw him take in another deep breath through his nose. "My moves will still be slow."

Rebecca nodded. He was waiting, and she knew she had to think of something quickly.

"I-I've never undressed a man before."

The confession was the first to come to mind, but it had been more difficult to express than she'd thought. Rebecca looked up at him from beneath her brows and found him beckoning her forward.

She stood and approached him, her hands reaching for the first button under his chin. He remained still, except when he raised his head so she could better get at the button. Slowly, each button was undone. Neither of them spoke. Severus watched her hands travel lower, finally tugging his shirt from his trousers so she could reach the last button. Her hands reached back toward his collar, then gripped the fabric slightly lower so that she could push it from his shoulders. The shirt slipped from his upper body, and Severus stood completely still.

Rebecca was taken aback momentarily at the look of his torso and bear arms. Of course there was the Dark Mark upon the inside of his left forearm. The wounds from Nagini's bite upon the left side of his neck. But there were other, much smaller scars upon him. Not many upon his front, but she feared what she would find if she circled around.

Slowly, she walked around him. Severus stiffened even further, but did not move otherwise or open his mouth to protest. As Rebecca suspected, his back was much worse. Scars that were open wounds at one point, of varying sizes, many looking peculiarly like belt buckles and the lines of thin switches. Others had cleaner looks, probably the results of curses, perhaps the Cruciatus forcing him to wound himself as he writhed.

"I've never touched a man's bear back before."

She waited a moment, but he did not move even still. Rebecca placed the flat of her palm against the biggest mark on his lower back. Then she circled her other hand around his waist, drawing herself closer to him so that she could pressed her body against his.

"Do not feel pity for me."

"I've never before pitied a hero for his war wounds."

Severus tilted his head forward and clenched his eyes shut. He felt her lips press against his spine. His features softened just slightly.

"I've never had a man touch my breasts in a way that I've liked."

Rebecca felt his muscles tightening, and she released him from her hold so he could turn to face her. He cupped her cheeks in both his hands and leaned down to kiss her gently upon the lips, then pulled away so that his lips still brushed against hers as he spoke.

"You'll be more comfortable on the bed."

She turned from him and went to sit on the edge of the bed before she brought her feet up to lay down fully. Severus rounded to the other side of the bed and sat down before rolling over to face her. Her upper body was raised from leaning against her pillows.

Severus first put his hand against her neck, then began his slow descent toward her chest, watching her face for her reactions. Rebecca kept breathing normally, though stopped when his hand rested against the top of the sweet of her breast. Severus' hand continued down, and soon it rested fully over her breast. He leaned forward as he squeezed gently. The slow movement of his lips against hers was enough to distract her momentarily, until his thumb rolled over her nipple. Even though her shirt, the sensation it caused made her take in a sharp breath.

Rebecca leaned her head back once more as Severus' lips continued down her neck, past her collarbone, and then down to the unoccupied breast. The hand upon the other went between squeezing her breast and circling her nipple. By the time Severus' lips kissed the swell of the second, Rebecca was already forcing her chest closer to him, moaning. He was going to nuzzle her second breast through the fabric of her shirt, but her voice interrupted him.

"I've never had a man take off my shirt before."

After a quick look at her face—which revealed her looking at him through half-lidded eyes, her lips parted, and not a sign of panic in sight—Severus changed course. His hands once more went to her hips, pushing up the fabric of her tank top so that it exposed her abdomen. He kissed his way up her stomach, pushing the fabric farther and farther up. He was just under her breasts when she lifted her arms.

Rebecca felt the shirt lift over her head, and when he tossed it aside, she saw Severus looking at her face, watching her eyes. She couldn't help but smile.

"I've never had a man more interested in my face when my shirt isn't on."

She felt that she would nearly faint at the smile upon his face. It was small, but the amusement revealed the tiny lines at the very edges of his eyes.

"I've—" She stopped and laughed.

"What?"

"I was going to say 'I've never had a man look at my bare breasts before,' but I remembered you've already done that."

"Unfortunately, I would not allow myself to truly appreciate them then."

"Fine. Then I've never had a man truly appreciate the beauty of my bare breasts," Rebecca replied with a chuckle.

"How shall I truly appreciate them?"

"However you see fit."

Severus looked down, licking his lips at the sight. Perfectly round, the left just bigger than the right, both nipples perked and waiting. He reached forward and let his hands cup them from the bottom, letting his thumbs run over the already pointed peaks.

Rebecca took in a breath and then let out a moan. Her head burrowed into the pillow as Severus continued to tweak her nipples. One of the hands suddenly disappeared, and Rebecca was going to protest. As she looked up, she saw him lower his mouth onto her breast and begin to gently suck. Her mouth opened wide and she let out another moan, her body moving underneath him. He moaned against her breast.

He moved from one breast to the next, showering his attention on both of them equally. Severus had practically lost himself in fully enjoying the sight of her beside him, wriggling with pleasure as she moaned and groaned so close to his ear. His erection pressed heavily against his trousers, wanting to be released. But that had not been what she'd asked for, not yet. And even if she didn't, Severus was more than content, and clearly she was as well. In the end, she was all that mattered.

"Severus."

The particular tone in her voice made him raise his head quickly. His eyes sought hers as he sat up. Her eyes shifted over his face as he continued to look at her. Would this be the moment she asked him to stop? Her mouth opened and closed, signaling her desire to say something, but her uncertainty with whatever it was. His hand reached forward to cup her cheek once more.

"I've never had a man make love to me."

"I'm not just any man," Severus said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I've never had the man I love fuck me."

"An interesting change in diction."

"I was hoping it'd inspire you into action."

Her hand was upon the button of his trousers. Severus felt her unbutton it. Her finger now rested upon the next button down, and it was all he could do not to simply flip her over in that instant.

"You're quite the little risk-taking witch," he said.

Her finger applied more pressure, and the second button met its match. Severus barely kept his face impassive as she moved to the third and final button of his trousers.

"This is your last chance to turn back."

The third button was released as she shot him a bold look.

"You've been warned."

Rebecca screamed, and then laughed, as she found herself being flipped upon her back. Severus leaned over her for a second before he shifted further down her body. His hands rested upon her hips underneath her flannel pants, fingers curling upon them.

She watched him anxiously. As she felt him pull down the fabric, she raised her bum off the bed to allow him the ability to pull the pants all the way down her legs. Once they were off, he discarded them on the floor and gazed upon her body, clad only in her knickers.

"I feel I'm at an unfair advantage," she said.

"As it stands, I'm beginning to wonder whether or not you've taken off a man's trousers."

Rebecca sat up and gripped the garment in question at his hips and pulled them down so they fell to his thighs.

"Now I have," she said with a smirk.

"You have also made it impossible for me to take them off easily," Severus said.

It took him a moment to get to the edge of the bed, but he managed to get his feet upon the floor and stand. He allowed his trousers to drop, and as he stepped out of them, Rebecca observed the way his buttocks moved underneath his black underpants. When he turned to face her, he found her smirking. The expression dropped momentarily, and her eyes flicked back up to look at his face.

Rebecca felt the flush come to her face and suddenly felt stupid. She looked away from him as he came lie beside her on the bed once more. He simply waited, not wanting to rush her into speaking before she was prepared.

"I feel inadequately prepared suddenly," she said quietly.

Severus stroked her hair. "There is no pressing need to continue beyond what you're comfortable with."

"No, that's not…"

Rebecca covered her face with her hands.

"I've never seen a man's penis before."

She let her hands drop from her face so she could see Severus' reaction. The pit of her stomach churned with her embarrassment, but he simply nodded and made to stand once more. Rebecca couldn't look as he removed his underpants, and only looked back at his face when he lay upon the bed beside her. He waited, head held up by his hand, his elbow resting upon the bed.

"Gods, I'm so embarrassed."

"There is nothing to be ashamed of," Severus said quietly. "Human sexuality is complex, and each one of us learns at our own pace."

Rebecca looked at him for a long moment before she nodded.

"I've never had a man take off my knickers before."

Severus rolled onto his knees so that he might kneel before her. He leaned forward and kissed her, bringing her back into her previous state of light headedness. She felt his hands pulling at her knickers, and soon they were trailing down her legs, his lips pressing searing kisses down her body.

He discarded her knickers on the floor along with the rest of their clothing. Severus stood upon his knees, revealing himself to her. Rebecca bit the inside of her lower lip at the site. Hearing about it, reading about it, and seeing it were certainly all different, and she felt herself flushing again at her naivety. She forced her logical mind to take over so that she would not be so overwhelmed.

The situation did not progress. Severus waited for her to speak. Meanwhile, Rebecca examined him. The skin appeared very thin, and she could see the veins throughout his penis. His scrotum hung beneath him, the skin there wrinkled. The size, while she had no comparison, made her wonder at how much it would stretch her, how much that it would hurt.

She forced her eyes up, past the sprinkling of dark, curly pubic hair and up his chest, past his shoulders and neck, until she met Severus' gaze again. Rebecca nodded. He fell onto his hands and approached her on all fours. Strong hands gripped her hips and pulled her toward him, so that her body was in a straight line.

As he crawled on top of her, Rebecca could feel her mind beginning to wander to all of the possibilities she did not wish to think of. Severus leaned down, his hair brushing against her cheek as he gave her a kiss.

"Focus on me," he said. "On what I'm doing. Nothing else."

She nodded.

Severus' mouth was upon hers, drawing her into a deep kiss. One hand kept him propped up as the second traced the edges of her body, soon coming up to cup her breast. Her hands sought his shoulders, tracing her nails over his arms on their way up. Severus shivered and drew his hand over her nipple once more. She moaned.

Her hands traveled down his back until she could feel his arse underneath her fingers. She squeezed, and he bucked forward, drawing himself further down upon her. She could feel his length pressing against her thigh.

"When I'm inside of you, don't do that until you're ready," he said against her ear.

Rebecca smiled, and then he rolled her earlobe between his teeth. Any retort she had was lost. Severus' hand trailed down from her breast until it rested upon the kept red pubic hair. He slipped a finger inside of her and was met with slickness. Rebecca's hips rose, and she let out a long groan.

"If I bring you to orgasm beforehand, it might prove easier on our later efforts," Severus said, his voice heady as he continued to stroke her, his finger curling upward and then relaxing inside of her.

"Okay."

Her body moved upon the bed, and the movement coupled with the efforts of his finger doubled her pleasure. Her mouth fell open and let out a loud moan. Severus stared down at her hungrily.

"I would like to taste you."

Her eyes half opened, and she saw that he was moving his hand without waiting for her response. Before she could speak, his hands were upon her hips as his head dipped forward. He drew her forward as he bent forward, burying his face between her legs. Rebecca gasped as his tongue flicked upward.

Severus' fingers dug into her thighs as he held her in place. Her scent surrounded him. His tongue delved in and out and a varying pace, slow at first, and then quickening with the sounds of her breaths. His tongue flicked over the delicate nub at her core, and she twitched, letting out a moan. He growled, his eyes watching her face intently.

As he growled, the vibration went down to his tongue, sending a shiver down Rebecca's body.

"Severus."

This seemed to spurn him onward, as he picked up his efforts. His tongue circled her clitoris, lapping at it, and then circled once more. She felt the pressure building, the familiar pressure that came when she pleasured herself. She grasped at the sheets and fought not to clench the muscles in her thighs. Her moans came closer together until his tongue brought her over the edge, causing her to scream.

Severus' cock twitched between his legs as she screamed her pleasure. A wave of desire went through him, but he forced his tongue to continue to encircle her clit until she was no longer screaming. He pulled his face from between her legs, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. He crawled up her body until he could look down at her face. His reward was the half-smile, heavily lidded eyes, and her heartbeat pounding in the vein at her throat.

He gave her no time to rest. She was not yet out of her stupor when he kissed her. Rebecca could taste herself upon his lips as he immediately took her tongue into his mouth. His hand reached between them and grabbed his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Slowly, he pushed forward.

Rebecca's hand came up to grasp his shoulder, the other at his cheek. She continued kissing him even as the head of his penis began to enter her. For now he went slowly, pressing against her opening. He moaned into her mouth and grasped her waist tightly.

It was excruciating. Rebecca felt as though a wound was slowly being torn open. She pulled from the kiss to find Severus' expression full of concentration, but pained at once.

"I know you're trying not to hurt me," she said, breaths coming quickly. "But just push into me."

His eyes opened and looked at her. Past the lust clearly visible there was the question he could not ask at the moment. She nodded, bracing her hands upon his shoulders.

Severus didn't break eye contact with her as he thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock into her as far as he could go. He grunted.

Rebecca felt him thrust forward and her insides being filled. It felt as though her body parted around him, tearing something inside of her. Thankfully he stopped, pressing his forehead to hers and nuzzling her cheek with his nose. She kissed him gently.

"Slowly."

He kissed her again in response, pulling out of her as slowly as he possibly could. He groaned the entire way out. She tensed as he did so.

"Relax."

He waited, the tip of him still inside of her, until he felt her back touch the bed once more.

Rebecca kept her eyes open so that she could see him watching her. He lowered his head once more, kissing along the side of her neck. He did not move his hips until he heard her begin to moan. Then, he slowly pushed back inside of her. The friction, coupled with the nip he took at her neck, made her gasp.

He was fully buried inside of her once more, and Severus found himself biting her neck again, wanting to draw the same response from her as he had before. She was wriggling underneath him, her nails raking across his shoulders and back as he continued his way in and out of her body. She was tight around his cock with each thrust, and her movements would merely push him further. He would not last long.

As Severus nipped, bit, and licked at her neck, Rebecca could feel his pace growing slightly faster with each thrust. But as sore as she felt, she moaned with each stroke. The pressure built within her again. Slowly, her fingers reached further down his body, and she gripped his arse once more. He bucked inside of her, letting out a short, loud moan as he did so. Rebecca's sounds echoed his own as he began driving into her, her hands clasping numbly at his back.

He used both arms to support himself as he pounded her body roughly into the mattress underneath her. Her sounds spurned him onward, the way her nails continued to dig into his back. He could feel her tightening around him, and he cried out, throwing his head backward.

Rebecca grasped him tightly as his thrusts became so quick that she could hardly tell when one began and another ended. Soon, he was crying out, still plunging into her. The way he threw his head back, the feral cry he emitted, and the way his cock stroked her insides forced her to ride out her second wave of pleasure.

Severus rode out his orgasm, his breath coming to him heavily as he finally came to a rest. He reached forward, his arms dipping underneath Rebecca to grasp her. He fell onto the bed beside her, slipping out of her as he did so. Her arms circled him, drawing his body close to hers.

The room smelled of sweat and of a saltiness that she couldn't place. She ached between her legs and could feel her wetness on her inner thighs. But she held onto Severus as he dropped upon the bed beside her, drawing him closer to her body as if afraid he would leave her.

Severus muttered a cleansing spell, and the room was rid of the pungent odor. He looked down to see Rebecca's face already turned up, waiting for him. His hand stroked the side of her face, and his lips pressed against hers. For the first time in such a long time, Severus felt content.

Rebecca pressed her lips against his cheek. "I love you," she whispered. "Don't ever forget."

"I will not," he said, his eyes closing.

He held her until he was certain that she was asleep before he went to the lavatory to relieve himself. He found her the same way he'd left her, head upon the pillow and eyes shut. Severus went around to the other side of the bed and got in beside her before pulling the sheets up over the both of them. Then he finally laid his head upon the pillow beside hers, letting his arm drape over her midsection.

He waved his hand, and both of the candles went out, shrouding them in darkness. Severus watched her face for quite some time before he settled back against the pillow.

"Thank you," he whispered.


End file.
